liiililiiltiii  jii 


m\ 


m 


LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 

AT  URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

STEWART  S.  HOWE 

JOURNALISM  CLASS  OF  1928 

STEWART  S.  HOWE  FOUNDATION 


l^oo 


^p  0tovst  ^.  IJalmcr 


THE  ENGLISH  POEMS  OF  GEORGE  HERBERT. 
With  trontispiece.     Edited  by  George  H.  Palmer. 

INTIMATIONS    OF    IMMORTALITY    IN    THE     SON- 
NETS   OF    SHAKSPERE.     htgersoU Lecture. 
THE  PROBLEM  OF  FREEDOM. 

THE  TEACHER  AND  OTHER  ESSAYS  AND  AD- 
DRESSES ON  EDUCATION.  By  George  H.  Palmer 
and  Alice  Freeman  Palmer. 

THE  LIFE  OF  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER.  With 
Portraits  and  Views.     New  Edition. 

THE  ENGLISH  WORKS  OF  GEORGE  HERBERT. 
Newly  arranged  and  annotated,  and  considered  in  rela- 
tion to  his  life,  by  G.  H.  Palmer.  Second  Edition.  In 
3  volumes.     Illustrated. 

THE  NATURE  OF  GOODNESS. 

THE  FIELD  OF  ETHICS. 

THE  ODYSSEY  OF  HOMER.  Books  I-XII.  The 
Text  and  an  English  Prose  Version. 

THE  ODYSSEY.  Complete.  An  Engl';sh  Translation 
in  Prose. 

THE  ANTIGONE  OF  SOPHOCLES.  Translated  into 
English.  With  an  Introduction. 

A  SERVICE  IN  MEMORY  OF  ALICE  FREEMAN 
PALMER.  Edited  by  George  H.  Palmer.  With  .Ad- 
dresses by  James  B.  Angell,  Caroline  Hazard,  W.  J. 
Tucker,  and  Charles  W.  Eliot.     With  Portraits. 

FORMATIVE  TYPES  IN   ENGLISH    POETRY. 

A  MARRIAGE  CYCLE.  By  Alice  Freeman  Palmer. 
Edited  by  George  H.  Palmer. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
Boston  and  New  York 


ALICE  free:\l\n  palmer 


Portrait  in  1892 


THE    LIFE    OF 
ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 


BY 


GEORGE  HERBERT  PALMER 


BOSTON   AND   NEW   YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT   1908  BY  GEORGE  HERBERT  PALMER 

ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 

Published  April  iqoS 


FORTIETH  THOUSAND 


6 

CONTENTS 

I.    Introduction ,    .     .  1 

il.    Childhood 17 

III.  Girlhood 31 

IV.  The  University 44 

V.    School-Teaching 72 

VI.    Teaching  at  Wellesley      ......  90 

VII.    The  Wellesley  Presidency 118 

VIII.    The  Wellesley  Presidency  (Continued)     .  135 

IX.    Marriage 168 

X.    Sabbatical  Years 189 

XI.    Cambridge ,     .     .     .  220 

XII.    Cambridge  (Continued) 243 

XIII.    BoxFORD 277 

XrV.    Death 311 

XV.    Character 328 

D.\TES c     .     o  353 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Alice  Freeman  Palmer Frontispiece 

Portrait  at  five  years 26 

The  Susquehanna  Valley 32 

Michigan  University 44 

Wellesley  College 90 

Academic  Portrait 134 

The  Wellesley  College  Memorial 166 

Cambridge  House 220 

Cambridge  Library 242 

BoxFORD  House 282 

Last  Portrait 328 


ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

When  fell,  to-day,  the  word  that  she  had  gone, 

Not  this  my  thought:  Here  a  bright  journey  ends, 

Here  rests  a  soul  unresting;  here,  at  last. 

Here  ends  that  earnest  strength,  that  generous  life  — 

For  all  her  life  was  giving.   Rather  this 

I  said  (after  the  first  swift,  sorrowing  pang) : 

Radiant  with  love,  and  love's  unending  power. 

Hence,  on  a  new  quest,  starts  an  eager  spirit  — 

No  dread,  no  doubt,  unhesitating  forth 

With  asking  eyes;  pure  as  the  bodiless  souls 

Whom  poets  vision  near  the  central  throne 

Angelically  ministrant  to  man; 

So  fares  she  forth  with  smiling,  Godward  face; 

Nor  should  we  grieve,  but  give  eternal  thanks  — 

Save  that  we  mortal  are,  and  needs  must  mourn. 

Richard  Watson  Gilder. 

December  0,  1902. 


THE  LIFE  OF 
ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 


I 

INTRODUCTION 

Three  reasons  impel  me  to  write  this  book,  affec- 
tion first  of  all.  Mrs.  Palmer  was  my  wife,  deeply 
beloved  and  honored.  Whatever  perpetuates  that 
honor  brings  me  peace.  To  leave  the  dead  wholly 
dead  is  rude.  Vivid  creature  that  she  was,  she  must 
not  lie  forgotten.  Something  of  her  may  surely  be 
saved  if  only  I  have  skill.  Perhaps  my  grateful  pen 
may  bring  to  others  a  portion  of  the  bounty  I  my- 
self received. 

A  second  and  more  obvious  summons  comes  from 
the  fact  that  in  herself  and  apart  from  me  Mrs. 
Palmer  was  a  notable  person.  Somebody  therefore 
may  be  tempted  to  write  her  life  if  I  do  not ;  for  her 
friends  were  numbered  by  the  ten  thousand.  At 
her  death  I  received  nearly  two  thousand  letters 
from  statesmen,  schoolgirls,  clerks,  lawyers,  teachers, 
country  wives,  outcasts,  millionaires,  ministers,  men 


2  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

of  letters,  —  a  heterogeneous  and  to  me  largely  an 
unknown  company,  but  alike  in  feeling  the  marvel 
of  her  personality  and  the  loss  her  death  had  caused 
them.  Few  women  of  her  time,  I  have  come  to 
think,  were  more  widely  loved.  And  now  these 
persons  are  recalling  her  influence  and  asking  for 
explanation.  Where  lay  that  strange  power,  and  how 
did  she  obtain  it?  She  lived  no  longer  than  most 
of  us.  She  had  no  early  advantage  of  birth,  physical 
vigor,  or  station.  Half  her  years  were  passed  in  com- 
parative poverty.  During  only  nine  did  she  hold 
positions  which  could  be  called  conspicuous.  She 
wrote  little.  In  no  field  of  scholarship  was  she  emi- 
nent. Her  tastes  were  domestic,  her  voice  gentle, 
her  disposition  feminine  and  self-effacing.  Yet  by 
personal  power  rather  than  by  favoring  circumstance 
this  woman  sent  out  an  influence  from  the  Atlantic 
to  the  Pacific,  an  influence  unique  in  kind  and  puz- 
zling those  on  whom  it  fell.  In  her  appearance  there 
was  nothing  enigmatic.  Altogether  simple  she  seemed, 
approachable,  plaj^ul  even,  interested  in  common 
things,  in  common  people,  with  no  air  of  profundity, 
and  small  inclination  to  remake  after  her  own  pat- 
tern the  characters  of  those  who  came  near ;  but  any 
one  on  whom  she  turned  her  great  eyes  went  out 
from  her  presence  renewed.  Hope  revived,  one's 
special  powers  were  heightened ;  the  wise,  the  exalted 
course  became  suddenly  easy;  while  toil  and  diffi- 


INTRODUCTION  3 

culties  began  to  spice  the  life  they  had  previously 
soured.  In  all  this  there  was  something  mysterious 
which  I  am  solicited  to  explain. 

I  cannot  explain  it.  Probably  genius  is  never 
explicable.  The  more  nearly  it  is  examined,  the  more 
intricately  marvelous  it  appears.  Fifteen  years  of 
closest  companionship  with  Mrs.  Palmer  did  not  dis- 
close to  me  the  pulse  of  that  curious  machine.  She 
always  remained  a  surprise.  Yet  I  never  tired  of 
studying  her;  for  though  we  seldom  can  fully  com- 
prehend a  person,  in  studying  one  who  is  great  we 
can  push  analysis  farther  than  elsewhere  and  with 
larger  entertainment  and  profit ;  we  discover  a  multi- 
tude of  ingredients  unsuspected  at  first;  and,  most 
interesting  of  all,  we  come  upon  strange  modes  of 
turning  trivial  things  to  power  and  of  gaily  discard- 
ing what  men  usually  count  important.  And  even 
when  at  last  we  arrive  at  what  defies  analysis,  being 
the  very  individuality  itself,  its  beautiful  mystery  still 
lures  us  on  and  —  like  Keats's  Grecian  Urn  —  en- 
largingly  "teases  us  out  of  thought." 

Accordingly,  in  response  to  many  requests,  I  mean 
to  make  the  second  object  of  this  book  the  study  of 
an  attractive  human  problem,  even  though  by  doing 
so  I  prove  to  how  limited  an  extent  the  demand 
for  an  understanding  can  be  gratified.  I  certainly 
shall  never  succeed  in  accounting  for  Mrs.  Palmer's 
charm ;  I  fear  I  shall  not  even  reproduce  it.    In  her 


4  ALICE   FREEMAN  PAEMER 

lifetime  many  artists  tried  to  depict  that  haunting 
and  variable  face,  hut  without  success.  The  sun 
itself  gave  only  partial  and  contradictory  reports. 
So  I  must  fail  in  setting  forth  so  elusive  a  being.  But 
this  failure  will  restrain  less  familiar  hands;  and  I 
can  at  least  set  in  order  the  chief  facts  of  her  life 
and  select  characteristic  specimens  of  her  sayings 
and  writings. 

And  if  so  much  is  accomplished,  perhaps  I  may 
accomplish  something  more.  In  life  Mrs.  Palmer's 
personality  was  an  influential  one.  It  embodied 
stimulating  ideals.  Those  who  approached  her,  even 
casually,  gained  power  and  peace.  President  Tucker 
says,  "There  is  no  other  of  our  generation,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  Phillips  Brooks,  who  has  stood 
to  such  a  degree  for  those  qualities  in  which  we  must 
all  believe  with  unquenchable  faith  if  we  are  to  do 
anything  in  this  world."  And  President  Eliot,  "To 
my  mind  this  career  is  unmatched  by  that  of  any 
other  American  woman.  Mrs.  Palmer's  life  and 
labors  are  the  best  example  thus  far  set  before 
American  womanhood."  If  my  portrait  of  her,  then, 
is  correct,  invigoration  will  go  forth  from  it  and  dis- 
heartened souls  be  cheered;  for  after  all,  her  modes 
of  life  —  with  suitable  adaptation  to  alien  tempera- 
ments—  are  capable  of  pretty  wide  application. 
What  was  peculiar  in  her  was  small.  She  chiefly 
distinguished  herself  by  wise  ways  of  confronting 


INTRODUCTION  5 

the  usual  world.  While,  then,  I  try  to  restore  her  to 
life  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  did  and  did  not  know 
her,  I  may  hope  that  readers  will  find  in  the  disclos- 
ure of  her  methods  material  for  their  own  strength 
and  courage. 

One  more  aim  remains,  weighty,  yet  lying  on  the 
surface.  In  some  of  the  social  movements  of  her 
time  Mrs.  Palmer  had  a  considerable  share.  During 
her  life  education  was  undergoing  reconstruction, 
new  colleges  were  coming  into  existence,  fresh  op- 
portunities and  capacities  for  women  were  being 
claimed  and  tested.  It  is  well  to  follow  such  move- 
ments in  the  lives  of  their  leaders  and  to  understand 
the  situation  in  which  those  leaders  found  them* 
selves.  By  sharing  in  their  early  hopes,  difficulties, 
and  results,  we  comprehend  better  the  world  we  in- 
habit. As  Mrs.  Palmer  was  sometimes  forced  into 
such  leadership,  she  may  be  said  to  have  a  certain 
historical  importance. 

Such,  then,  are  the  three  impulses  ''f  this  book, — 
the  insatiability  of  love,  the  general  desire  for  por- 
traiture, the  rights  of  history.  Here  personal,  psy- 
chological, social  motives  mingle.  Since  I  can  no 
longer  talk  with  her,  I  would  talk  of  her  and  get  the 
comfort  of  believing  that  even  now  without  me  she 
may  not  be  altogether  perfect.  Enjoying,  too,  artis- 
tic criticism,  psychology,  ethical  problems,  I  gladly 
bring  my  special  knowledge  to  bear  on  what  many 


6  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

found  mysterious,  pleasing  myself  with  thinking  that 
in  making  her  known  to  old  friends  and  new  I  shall 
also  make  them  better  known  to  themselves.  And 
then,  retaining  my  belief  in  the  public  causes  for 
which  she  stood,  I  should  like  briefly  to  record  their 
history  and  thus  encourage  the  next  generation  in 
its  own  way  to  push  them  on.  But  in  carrying  out 
these  collective  aims  I  encounter  obstacles  which 
rigidly  limit  my  success. 

Mrs.  Palmer  was  a  person  of  strong  temperamental 
reserve.  One  did  not  at  first  suspect  it.  She  seemed 
uncommonly  open ;  and  so  indeed  she  was  —  open 
for  going  forth  to  others,  but  not  for  admitting  them 
to  her.  Her  simple  manners  and  generous  s>Tnpathies 
put  every  one  at  ease  and  gave  each  the  satisfaction, 
entirely  well-grounded,  of  feeling  that  he  was  for  the 
moment  her  greatest  object  of  regard.  But  when  one 
turned  about  and  tried  to  make  her  the  object  of 
regard,  one  did  not  penetrate  far.  Not  that  she  had 
the  distrustful  modesty  which  fears  to  talk  of  its 
doings.  She  knew  her  powers,  respected  them,  and 
had  a  good  deal  of  the  child's  way  of  finding  herself 
as  interesting  as  did  others.  Nor  did  she,  like  an 
aristocrat,  seek  to  screen  herself  from  the  common 
gaze.  But  accustomed  as  she  was  to  ministering 
and  not  being  ministered  unto,  the  loving  scrutiny 
which  most  were  eager  to  bestow  she  took,  as  it  were, 
merely  in  passing.  Nothing  was  easier  than  a  super- 


INTRODUCTION  7 

ficial  acquaintance  with  her ;  but  friends  have  told  me 
that  after  an  acquaintance  of  five  years,  while  admir- 
ing devotion  steadily  grew,  they  knew  her  no  better 
than  on  the  first  day.  The  springs  of  her  conduct, 
what  she  cared  for  most,  her  ultimate  beliefs  and  alle- 
giances, few  could  know  —  perhaps  not  even  herself. 
It  is  difficult  to  penetrate  far  into  a  nature  so  con- 
crete and  unconscious,  a  nature,  too,  which  held  itself 
aloof  from  others  by  perpetual  kindness.  To  depict 
it  I  might  seem  obliged  to  adopt  an  objective  method 
and  to  allow  the  facts  of  the  life  to  speak  for  them- 
selves. But  such  a  method  would  be  useless;  the  life 
was  uneventful.  Hers  was  in  general  a  smooth 
existence,  in  which  little  happened  which  might  not 
befall  any  of  us.  I  have  often  thought  that  God, 
Nature,  Fate,  or  whoever  the  presiding  power  may 
be,  foreseeing  her  desire  always  to  find  her  happiness 
in  that  of  others,  provided  her  abundantly  out  of  the 
common  lot  and  left  the  element  of  distinction  to 
be  added  by  herself.  It  was  always  she  who  ennobled 
her  circumstance.  The  occurrences  of  her  life  were 
few  and  unimportant,  while  what  she  drew  from  them 
fashioned  a  powerful  personality.  On  herself,  then, 
I  must  concentrate  attention  and  try  to  induce  my 
readers  to  look  rather  through  the  facts  than  at  them. 
Of  exciting  narrative  I  have  not  much  to  offer.  My 
book  will  be  a  kind  of  character  novel,  in  which 
little  occurs  and  nobody  appears  except  the  heroine. 


8  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

And  since  I  am  detailing  difficulties,  let  me  say 
that  my  material  is  not  quite  what  I  should  wish. 
I  knew  Mrs.  Palmer  during  little  more  than  a  third 
of  her  life,  when  the  formative  influences  of  child- 
hood and  early  womanhood  were  already  absorbed 
into  structure.  My  knowledge  of  these  I  piece  to- 
gether from  what  can  be  gathered  from  the  few 
survivors  of  those  early  years  and  from  incidental 
remarks  of  her  own.  But  she  was  never  reminiscent 
or  introspective,  had  little  interest  in  tracing  her 
growth,  and  at  any  time  took  herself  pretty  much  as 
she  found  herself.  I  once  induced  her  to  set  down 
the  principal  dates  of  her  life,  and  these  notes  now 
furnish  the  trusty  framework  of  my  tale.  But  as  I 
am  trying  to  construct  an  inner  history  rather  than 
an  outer,  such  a  record  goes  only  a  little  way.  What 
I  want  is  sayings  and  writings,  so  that  my  readers 
may  catch  her  quality  from  her  own  lips ;  and  these 
I  lack  in  the  midst  of  peculiar  abundance.  Let  both 
that  abundance  and  that  lack  reveal  her  character. 

While  she  wrote  no  books  and  published  only  half 
a  dozen  articles,  during  each  of  her  later  years  she 
made  no  less  than  twenty  speeches.  I  at  first  thought 
I  might  exhibit  her  in  extracts  from  these  and  from 
her  letters.  But  each  source  I  find  to  be  only  slenderly 
available.  Her  addresses  were  never  written.  In- 
deed, she  seldom  drew  up  memoranda  of  the  points 
to  be  discussed.    Her  rapid  speech  confounded  the 


INTRODUCTION  9 

reporters,  so  that  in  only  a  few  instances  have  I  reports 
which  are  anything  like  verbatim.  Little,  therefore, 
of  her  literary  output  remains,  except  what  lodged 
in  the  minds  of  the  hearers.  There  was  in  her  a 
wastefulness  like  that  of  the  blossoming  tree.  It 
sometimes  disturbed  me,  and  for  it  I  occasionally 
took  her  to  task.  "Why  will  you,"  I  said,  "give  all 
this  time  to  speaking  before  uninstructed  audiences, 
to  discussions  in  endless  committees  with  people  too 
dull  to  know  whether  they  are  talking  to  the  point, 
and  to  anxious  interviews  with  tired  and  tiresome 
women  ?  You  would  exhaust  yourself  less  in  writing 
books  of  lasting  consequence.  At  present  you  are 
building  no  monument.  When  you  are  gone  people 
will  ask  who  you  were,  and  nobody  will  be  able  to 
say."  But  I  always  received  the  same  indifferent 
answer:  "Well,  why  should  they  say.''  I  am  trying 
to  make  girls  wiser  and  happier.  Books  don't  help 
much  toward  that.  They  are  entertaining  enough, 
but  really  dead  things.  Why  should  I  make  more  of 
them .'  It  is  people  that  count.  You  want  to  put 
yourself  into  people ;  they  touch  other  people ;  these, 
others  still,  and  so  you  go  on  working  forever."  I 
could  never  stir  her  interest  in  posthumous  fame  nor 
shake  her  estimate  of  the  importance  of  dealing  with 
individual  human  beings.  Instinctively  she  adopted 
the  idea  of  Jesus  that  if  you  would  remould  the 
tvorld,  the  wise  way  is  not  to  write,  but  to  devote 


10  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

your  fleeting  years  to  persistent  talks  with  a  dozen 
young  fishermen.  And  that  this  audacious  method 
was  effective  in  her  small  degree,  as  in  that  majestic 
instance,  I  now  daily  perceive  as  I  meet  with  those 
who  once  were  almost  dead  and  were  brought  to 
living  fruitfulness  by  her  ardent  patience.  Yet  still 
I  mourn  that  through  behaving  so  generously  she 
largely  disappeared. 

It  might  seem  that  her  letters  w^ould  save  her. 
They  went  forth  by  the  hundred  a  week.  They  were 
usually  written  by  her  own  hand,  were  long,  careful, 
and  highly  personal,  even  when  relating  to  business 
affairs.  In  them  she  expressed  her  best  qualities. 
Whoever  received  one  knew  that  it  was  a  thing  of 
value.  In  these,  then,  would  naturally  be  found  the 
material  for  her  biography. 

But  the  trait  which  I  have  just  mentioned  limits 
their  use.  She  was  unceasingly  and  minutely  per- 
sonal. The  individual  human  being  was  in  her 
world  the  all-important  thing;  and  when  she  wrote 
him,  every  sentence  concerned  just  him  and  no  one 
else.  This  made  her  letters  not  merely  unsuitable  to 
print,  but  for  the  general  reader  unintelligible  and 
for  the  most  part  uninteresting.  She  entered  into  her 
correspondent's  circumstances  with  such  specific  de- 
tail as  to  bewilder  any  one  who  knew  them  less  than 
she  and  he.  To  explain  the  allusions  would  require 
a  letter  longer  than  her  own.    His  family  ties,  his 


INTRODUCTION  11 

business  perplexities,  his  previous  falls  or  rises,  the 
wisest  steps  by  which  he  may  now  reach  his  ends,  the 
assurance  that  some  one  cares  for  his  success  and  is 
elated  over  his  little  advancements  —  these  are  the 
matters  of  which  she  hourly  wrote.  Her  eager  simple 
language  awoke  his  confidence  and  gratitude,  but  a 
different  person  would  find  her  pages  as  empty  as  the 
newspaper  of  a  neighboring  town.  Rarely  do  her 
letters  contain  general  truths,  discussions  of  public 
questions,  opinions  on  books  or  persons,  rarely  do 
they  relate  to  interests  of  her  own.  She  has  no  inter- 
ests which  are  not  those  of  him  to  whom  she  writes. 
Even  her  occasional  descriptions,  like  those  sent 
home  during  her  residences  abroad,  animated  though 
they  are  and  skilful  in  seizing  the  distinctive  features 
of  unaccustomed  scenes,  seem  written  because  the 
reader  needs  to  hear  rather  than  she  to  speak.  The 
notion  of  giving  to  somebody  was  a  necessary  factor 
in  all  she  did  and  said.  The  artist  craves  expression 
primarily  for  delivering  his  own  soul ;  knowing  too 
that  if  he  accomplishes  this,  he  fixes  public  attention 
on  his  product.  Her  abounding  soul  sought  neither 
that  relief  nor  that  approval,  but  found  its  full  de- 
light in  relieving  the  souls  of  others, 

Only  once,  so  far  as  I  know,  did  she  turn  to  e^^. 
pression  for  her  own  sake.  After  her  death  I  came 
upon  a  book  of  verses,  written  by  her  during  the  last 
five  years  of  her  life.    She  bad  given  it  the  title  pf 


12  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

"A  ISIarriage  Cycle,"  and  in  it  had  endeavored  to 
mark  the  successive  steps  through  which  love  brings 
a  pair  into  union  with  each  other,  with  nature,  and 
with  God.  Marriage  she  had  always  reverenced, 
holding  that  only  through  it  can  either  man  or  wo- 
man reach  the  largest  fulfilment.  When,  compara- 
tively late  in  life,  she  came  to  her  own,  she  began  in 
her  usual  fashion  to  bring  out  its  inner  significance 
and  beauty.  Romance  was  in  her  case  no  product  of 
novelty,  but  was  usually  fertilized  and  rendered  more 
exuberant  by  the  deposits  of  time.  Accordingly,  when 
ten  years  of  marriage  and  her  own  fortieth  year  were 
passed,  wonder  and  gratitude  over  her  happy  con- 
dition became  almost  oppressive.  From  occasional 
dates  scattered  through  this  book  of  verses  I  judge 
she  now  began  to  snatch  brief  intervals  from  busi- 
ness and  employ  them  for  recording  typical  situa- 
tions of  crisis  and  growth  in  our  life  together.  She 
had  never  written  poetry  before,  though  ever  a  stu- 
dent of  it.  Now  she  wrote  purely  for  herself,  rarely 
showing  me  anything.  This  book,  more  than  any 
document  that  has  survived  her,  depicts  her  heart, 
mind,  courage,  and  character.  For  this  reason  I 
cannot  use  it.  Its  poetry  is  too  intimate  to  be  pub- 
lished during  my  life.  Only  a  few  pieces,  expressing 
chiefly  religious  trust,  I  printed  in  a  magazine 
shortly  after  her  death.  A  few  more,  relating  to  coun- 
try scenes,  are  given  here  in  my  thirteenth  chapter. 


INTRODUCTION  13 

Such  then  are  my  resources,  my  difficulties,  and 
my  aims.  I  move  within  restricted  bounds.  On  ac- 
count of  an  extremely  individual  quality,  not  much 
of  Mrs.  Palmer's  poetry  or  correspondence  can  be 
used  to  illustrate  her  life.  Still  less  is  available  of 
that  which  made  her  most  widely  known,  her  public 
speeches.  The  events  of  her  life  were  not  unusual, 
while  her  personality  was  baffling,  sheltered  as  it 
was  by  instinctive  reserve  and  too  large  to  be  easily 
measured.  Yet  such  difficulties  do  not  block  the 
way;  they  merely  define  it.  While  rendering  any- 
thing like  the  usual  "Life  and  Letters"  impossible, 
they  point  directly  to  something  not  less  interesting, 
and  perhaps  of  equal  value:  to  an  impressionistic 
portrait,  a  personal  estimate,  an  evolutional  study. 
For  in  calling  her  life  uneventful  I  do  not  mean  that 
it  lacked  interest.  Every  week  was  full  of  it,  for  her- 
self and  for  others.  To  a  discerning  eye  wealth  of 
incident  offers  no  such  interest  as  an  even  unfolding 
brings,  where  event  links  with  event,  each  later  dis- 
closing what  was  contained  in  germ  in  some  earlier, 
until  when,  in  orderly  sequence,  something  is  reached 
which  under  other  circumstances  might  be  aston- 
ishing, it  comes  prepared  for  and  as  only  a  matter 
of  happy  course.  These  are  the  truly  dramatic  lives, 
and  such  was  preeminently  hers.  We  follow  here 
a  harmoniously  developed  and  stimulating  drama, 
into  which  little  that  is  accidental  intrudes.  To  say 


14  ALICE   FREEIVLVN  PALMER 

that  Mrs.  Palmer  was  born  in  an  obscure  border 
village  and  became  the  renowned  president  of  an 
eastern  college  at  twenty-six  may  at  first  startle, 
but  only  until  acquaintance  with  her  shows  how  nat- 
urally this  eminence  and  obscurity  went  together.  In 
some  degree  to  bring  about  that  acquaintance  and  to 
set  forth  the  orderly  development  of  a  noble  nature 
is  my  inviting  task. 

And  for  an  undertaking  thus  limited  the  material 
is  not  insufficient.  There  are  my  seventeen  years  of 
acquaintance,  the  recollections  of  those  who  were 
with  her  in  early  years,  the  talk  of  hundreds  of  stu- 
dents, the  records  of  colleges  and  societies,  the  en- 
thusiastic affection  which  everywhere  attended  her, 
and  the  marks  of  her  influence  still  discernible  in 
a  multitude  of  lives.  I  have  already  mentioned  the 
set  of  dates  which  she  herself  drew  up.  And  then 
her  letters,  though  on  the  whole  of  small  historical 
value,  contain  precious  illustrations  of  character. 
Everywhere  they  bear  marks  of  her  ardor,  ease,  sym- 
pathy, and  elevation.  They  show,  too,  the  growth 
of  her  powers.  I  use  them  often,  therefore,  but 
always  with  the  aim  of  exhibiting  herself,  and  not 
events  or  persons.  For  this  reason  no  one  of  them 
is  printed  entire,  no  dates  are  affixed,  nor  names  of 
those  to  whom  they  were  written.  Careless  of  the 
original  text,  I  merely  gather  groups  of  characteris- 
tic fragments,  sometimes  even  piecing  together  two 


INTRODUCTION  15 

which  happen  to  be  marked  with  a  similar  mood  of 
mind. 

My  general  plan  will  be  to  devote  a  single  chapter 
to  each  definable  section  of  her  career;  in  it  to  ana- 
lyze the  forces  which  were  then  shaping  her  growth, 
and  at  its  close,  through  these  fragmentary  letters 
or  those  of  friends,  to  give  an  independent  report 
of  how  she  looked  and  spoke  at  the  time.  In  this 
way  I  believe  my  scanty  materials  will  yield  their 
utmost.  Possibly,  too,  the  course  of  her  develop- 
ment will  be  followed  more  readily  if  I  mark  out  in 
it  four  unequal  periods  and  give  them  special  names. 
The  first  we  may  call  her  Family  Life,  extending 
up  to  her  entering  Windsor  Academy  in  1865;  the 
second,  the  Expansion  of  her  Powers,  up  to  her 
graduation  from  Michigan  University  in  1876;  the 
third,  her  Service  of  Others,  up  to  her  marriage 
in  1887;  and  last  the  Expression  of  Herself,  up  to 
her  death  in  190:2.  While  these  periods  are  not  ex- 
clusive of  one  another,  each  is  dominated  by  special 
interests  which  pretty  clearly  distinguish  it,  the  later 
ones  being  hardly  possible  without  those  which  go 
before.  But  Mrs.  Palmer  herself  was  unaware  of 
any  such  divisions  of  her  life;  and  if  the  reader 
chooses  to  forget  them  or  to  count  them  pedantic,  I 
shall  not  think  him  disrespectful  to  me  or  to  her. 

In  reference  to  one  feature  of  my  book  a  little 
warning  may  be  well.    This  is  a  prejudiced  story 


16  ALICE  FREEMAN  PAL:MER 

I  am  far  from  a  dispassionate,  or  even  a  detached 
observer  of  her  whom  I  would  make  known.  She 
and  I  had  become  pretty  completely  one.  Often  my 
only  way  of  telling  about  her  is  to  tell  about  myself. 
The  book,  therefore,  while  ostensibly  a  biography, 
claims  many  privileges  of  an  autobiography,  and 
might  properly  enough  be  called  the  autobiography 
of  a  friend.  In  it  I  must  be  allowed  abundant  ego- 
tism, reminiscence,  admiration,  personal  disclosure. 
But  perhaps  such  a  compound  method  will  not  be 
thought  inappropriate  in  a  portrait  of  one  whose 
constant  habit  it  was  to  mingle  her  abounding  life 
with  that  of  others. 


II 

CHILDHOOD 

Alice  Elvira  Freeman  was  born  on  the  night  of 
February  21,  1855,  at  Colesville,  Broome  County, 
New  York.  The  influences  which  chiefly  shaped  her 
childhood  were  her  country  hfe,  her  narrow  means, 
and  her  father's  change  of  occupation.  All  else  is 
subordinate  to  these. 

Colesville  is  rather  a  collection  of  farms  than  of 
houses,  Windsor,  its  nearest  considerable  village, 
being  seven  miles  away;  its  nearest  town,  Bingham- 
ton,  a  dozen  miles  from  Windsor.  All  the  child's 
early  years  were  passed  in  a  tract  of  smiling  country, 
where  hills,  woods,  fertile  fields,  and  the  winding 
stream  of  the  Susquehanna  expressed  the  beauty 
and  friendliness  of  nature  with  nothing  of  its  savagery. 
These  gracious  influences  became  a  rich  endowment. 
Nature  did  for  her  what  it  did  for  Wordsworth's 
Lucy,  imparted  to  her  its  mystery,  its  poise,  its  soli- 
tude, its  rhythmic  change,  its  freedom  from  haste 
and  affectation.  Social  being  as  she  afterwards  be- 
came, her  days  with  dumb  things  were  fortunately 
preparatory.  They  taught  her  to  know  the  elemental 
background  of  human  existence,  to  respect  it, /to 


18  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

value  in  herself  and  others  the  blind  motions  of  its 
unconscious  wisdom,  and  to  carry  into  subsequent 
life  and  literature  the  senses  it  had  trained.  She 
used  to  pity  persons  born  m  cities,  and  thought  that 
the  country-bred  were  provided  with  securer  sources 
of  happiness.  Throughout  life,  when  she  would  chase 
fatigue  and  fear,  she  fled  from  "the  great  town's 
harsh  heart- wearying  roar"  and  quickly  renewed 
herself  by  lying  in  green  grass  or  walking  by  the  bank 
of  a  favorite  brook  in  the  deep  woods.  There  she 
needed  no  other  companion  than  the  hopping  birds. 
With  them  she  was  an  intimate  from  her  earliest 
years,  and  she  became  in  later  life  an  expert  in  their 
names  and  ways.  One  of  her  most  successful  ad- 
dresses was  on  the  glories  of  a  country  life;  and  I 
remember  her  saying  that  the  opening  sections  of 
Emerson's  Essay  on  Nature  affected  her  as  if  they 
were  the  recollections  of  her  brooding  childhood. 
Her  refinement  had  ever  an  earthy  stock  beneath  it, 
so  that  she  was  not  easily  shocked  or  inclined  to 
count  common  things  unclean.  She  loved  to  mix 
with  horses.  She  knew  the  farmyard,  the  country 
road,  the  breeding  cattle,  and  the  upturned  soil ;  anci 
she  cared  for  them  as  heartily  as  for  college  girls, 
picture  galleries,  and  companies  where  there  are 
"quick  returns  of  courtesy  and  wit."  When  Ulysses 
stepped  naked  from  the  thicket  on  the  seashore, 
Nausicaa's  maidens  fled,   while  she  herself  stood 


CHILDHOOD  19 

unalarmed  to  learn  what  he  might  need.  Alice 
Freeman's  country  training  enabled  her  all  her  days 
to  behave  as  did  the  Phseacian  princess. 

But  persons  were  with  the  child  as  well  as  natural 
objects.  We  are  all  offshoots  of  a  family.  Sometimes 
we  speak  as  if  each  of  us  were  a  single  individual, 
standing  solitary,  existing  alone;  but  nothing  of  the 
sort  is  true.  The  smallest  conceivable  personality  is 
threefold,  —  father,  mother,  child.  No  one  of  us 
starts  as  an  individual  or  can  ever  after  become  such, 
being  essentially  social,  a  member  merely,  a  part  of  a 
larger  whole.  It  is  therefore  of  extreme  consequence, 
if  our  life  is  to  be  a  fortunate  one,  that  the  family  of 
which  we  are  portions  shall  be  noble  and  have  a  high 
descent.  That  was  the  case  with  Alice  Freeman; 
for  though  on  both  sides,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  few 
of  her  ancestors  figured  in  the  newspapers,  or  had 
any  considerable  share  of  wealth  or  learning,  they 
we.-e  of  that  sturdy  stock  which  has  been  the  glory 
of  America  —  men  and  women  who  in  quiet  homes 
pride  themselves  on  duty  and  intelligence,  who 
think  about  each  day's  work  and  carefully  accom- 
plish it;  people  on  whom  neighbors  can  rely,  and 
who  are  willing  to  be  overlooked  in  the  public  inter- 
est. James  Warren  Freeman,  the  hard-working, 
self -forgetting  father,  was  of  Scottish  blood.  His 
mother  was  a  Knox;  her  father  being  James  Knox 
of   Washington's    Life    Guard.     From    her   fathei 


20  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

Alice  derived  much  of  her  moral  beauty,  and  also 
that  gleam  of  red  which  undershot  her  dark  hair. 
Perhaps  too  from  his  side  came  some  of  her  love 
of  adventure;  for  her  paternal  grandfather  walked 
from  Connecticut  through  the  wilderness  and  be- 
came one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Central  New  York. 

The  mother,  Elizabeth  Josephine  Higley  —  her 
mother  Elvira  Frost  —  was  one  of  five  beautiful 
daughters  of  a  Colesville  farmer.  Their  dark  hair 
and  large  eyes  passed  over  to  the  child,  their  vivacity 
too,  and  their  forceful  intellectual  disposition. 
Mother  and  grandmother  had  been  for  brief  terms 
teachers.  The  mother  herself  had  unusual  execu- 
tive ability  and  a  strong  disposition  to  improve 
social  conditions  around  her.  She  interested  herself 
in  temperance,  and  in  legislation  for  the  better  pro- 
tection of  women  and  children.  In  later  years,  af- 
ter a  long  illness  had  led  her  to  reflect  on  the  lack 
of  medical  provision  for  women,  she  raised  by  her 
own  efforts,  though  far  from  rich  herself,  sufficient 
money  to  build  and  equip  an  extensive  hospital 
for  women  in  her  city  of  Saginaw.  Both  father 
and  mother  were  of  large  physical  frame,  tough 
in  fibre,  and  capable  of  enduring  constant  toil. 
But  on  the  mother's  side  there  was  a  tendency  to 
consumption. 

When  Alice  was  born,  her  mother  was  but  seven- 
teen and  a  half  years  old     **I  grew  up  with  my 


CHILDHOOD  21 

mother,"  she  used  to  say.  In  the  next  five  years  came 
a  boy  and  two  girls.  Neither  Mrs.  Freeman  nor  her 
husband  had  inherited  property,  and  the  conditions 
of  farming  in  a  young  country  are  severe.  I  remem- 
ber Alice's  speaking  of  the  rarity  of  fresh  meat  in 
her  childhood,  and  of  associations  of  luxury  with  a 
keg  of  salt  mackerel.  On  these  isolated  farms  no 
servants  were  kept,  nor  were  means  of  communica- 
tion easy.  Newspapers,  letters,  and  books  were  rare. 
The  family  itself  was  the  community.  Comforts 
were  little  thought  of.  He  was  lucky  who  could 
command  the  necessities. 

It  is  now  acknowledged  that  the  most  question- 
able advantage  of  large  wealth  is  its  influence  on 
children.  Those  who  acquire  it  are  likely  enough 
to  grow  with  its  pursuit,  and  the  control  over  the 
world  which  it  brings  to  its  vigorous  accumulator  is 
not  unfavorable  to  enjoyment  or  to  still  further  ad- 
vance. But  children  who  have  never  known  want 
get  few  deep  draughts  of  joy.  Whoever  prizes  human 
conditions  in  proportion  to  their  tendency  to  develop 
powers  must  commiserate  the  children  of  the  rich 
and  think  of  them  as  our  unfortunate  classes.  They 
associate  less  with  their  parents  than  do  others ;  their 
goings  and  comings  are  more  hampered ;  they  are 
not  so  easily  habituated  to  regular  tasks;  they  are 
pressed  less  to  experiment,  foresee,  adapt ;  they  have 
less   stimulus   to    energetic    excellence,    and    when 


22  ALICE  FREEjSIAN  PALMER 

tempted  to  vice  or  mediocrity  they  have  little  counter- 
compulsion  to  support  their  better  purpose.  Wise 
rich  parents  know  these  dangers  and  give  their 
most  anxious  thought  to  shielding  their  children 
from  the  enervating  influence  of  wealth. 

At  the  opposite  extreme,  poverty  is  for  certain 
children,  and  at  certain  ages,  tonic  in  its  effect.  It 
may  be  too  severe  and  become  blighting.  Middle 
conditions  are  for  the  average  undoubtedly  safest. 
At  the  time  of  turning  from  childhood  to  youth  there 
appears  in  the  normal  child  a  craving  for  the  expan- 
sion of  personal  tastes.  If  this  cannot  in  some  measure 
be  gratified,  damage  results.  The  child  is  stunted. 
At  an  earlier  age  the  importance  of  money  is  less 
clear.  The  child's  nature  determines  whether  nar- 
row means  are  to  be  a  blessing  or  a  curse.  A  gentle 
child,  slow,  unobservant,  unromantic,  little  disposed 
to  projecting  itself  into  things,  is  in  danger  of  being 
crushed  by  a  bleak  environment,  or  at  least  of  hav- 
ing its  undesirable  qualities  confirmed.  It  grows  up 
dull,  coarse,  or  bitter.  But  little  children  of  a  more 
aggressive  type  are  nourished  by  poverty  and  in  it 
are  often  afforded  their  best  opportunity  for  early 
expansion. 

So  it  was  with  small  Alice  Freeman.  She  found  a 
careful  home  fortunate,  or  possibly  made  it  so;  for 
in  her  case  the  distinction  between  finding  and  mak- 
ing was  seldom  quite  clear.    She  has  often  assured 


CHILDHOOD  23 

me  of  the  happiness  of  her  childhood ;  and  one  can 
see  how  to  so  rich  a  nature  —  alert,  forceful,  and 
creative  —  the  exactitudes  of  a  restricted  existence 
might  not  be  unfriendly.  In  that  environment  the 
fourfold  germs  of  the  moral  sense  very  early  gathered 
their  proper  warmth,  and  grew  delightedly  toward 
God,  and  toward  her  superiors,  inferiors,  and  equals. 
In  this  home  God  was  reverenced  and  man  con- 
tent. Both  parents  were  profoundly  religious,  the 
father  an  elder  of  the  Presbyterian  church.  Whatever 
came  therefore,  gentle  or  severe,  was  felt  to  come 
with  kindness  and  to  bring  its  call  to  cheerful  and 
considered  acceptance.  In  such  serious  circumstances 
the  words  of  the  Bible,  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  of 
the  great  hymns,  penetrate  the  soul  with  a  depth  of 
meaning  incredible  to  those  who  read  them  carelessly 
or  in  the  intervals  of  other  exciting  volumes.  Re- 
ligion roots  best  in  isolation.  "  Be  still,  and  know 
that  I  am  God,"  says  the  Psalmist.  In  the  silence 
of  the  country  a  child  can  hear  God's  voice.  Then 
too,  whatever  the  hardships  were  or  however  severe, 
they  were  shared;  and  difficulties  met  together 
strengthened  the  dearest  of  human  ties.  To  her 
young  mother  Alice  soon  became  rather  a  sister  than 
a  child,  a  peculiar  relation  maintained  through  life, 
and  more  natural  at  that  time  because  there  was 
usually  in  the  house  an  aunt  or  two  of  about  her 
own  years. 


84  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

\Miere  too  there  was  so  little  money  and  so  much 
to  do,  the  smallest  took  part  in  the  universal  work; 
no  burdensome  part,  but  one  which,  though  a  kind 
of  play,  contributed  to  the  common  gain.  Sociologists 
say  that  the  sports  of  animals  and  children  are  edu- 
cative, really  performances  in  miniature  and  for  pure 
pleasure,  of  the  employments  of  later  life.  This 
buoyant  child  found  participation  in  the  daily  toil 
such  an  anticipatory  sport,  and  almost  from  infancy 
helpfulness  grew  habitual.  About  as  soon  as  she 
could  walk  she  was  employed  to  call  her  father  from 
the  field,  to  assist  her  mother  with  the  dishes  and  the 
beds,  and  to  gather  eggs  from  the  barn.  When  she 
was  five,  she  had  three  younger  children  to  attend, 
henceforth  her  daily  charge.  She  dressed  them, 
brushed  their  hair,  took  them  to  school,  and  per- 
formed all  those  offices  of  the  little  mother  which 
fall  upon  the  eldest  girl  in  a  household  of  slender 
means.  These  are  the  kindergartens  of  the  country, 
admirable  training  schools  for  such  small  persons 
as  can  meet  their  requirements.  At  an  age  when 
children  of  the  well-to-do  are  hardly  out  of  their 
nurses'  arms  Alice  Freeman  was  already  well  started 
in  heartfelt  dependence  on  the  Eternal,  in  the  cheer- 
ful performance  of  regular  work,  in  lightening  the 
labor  of  those  above  her,  and  in  accepting  respon- 
sibility for  those  below.  Any  one  can  see  how  these 
early  habits  prepared  her  for  future  power. 


CHILDHOOD  25 

Intellectually  her  case  seems  less  favorable.  A 
district  school,  of  the  disordered  and  elementary 
sort  usual  in  a  sparsely  settled  country,  was  the  only 
one  accessible.  Its  teacher  was  paid  two  dollars  a 
week  and  "  boarded  round."  To  it  Alice  went  when 
she  was  four.  But  already  at  three  she  had  taught 
herself  to  read,  and  her  beautiful  voice  was  always 
afterwards  much  in  request  for  reading  aloud  — 
excellent  preparation  for  subsequent  public  speaking. 
Though  books  were  few,  they  were  read  many  times, 
about  the  only  mode  of  reading  which  yields  profit 
to  the  young.  Favorite  poems  were  committed  to 
memory.  Alice's  first  public  appearance,  occasioned 
by  one  of  these,  amusingly  illustrates  her  instinct- 
ive identification  of  herself  with  those  around. 

When  five  years  old  she  was  taken  to  a  village 
gathering,  where  the  entertainment  chiefly  consisted  of 
music  and  speeches.  While  these  incomprehensible 
matters  were  in  progress  she  was  allowed  to  fall 
asleep,  but  at  the  appropriate  moment  was  waked, 
stood  on  a  table,  and  told  to  repeat  her  poem.  It 
was  one  she  was  fond  of,  and  she  spoke  it  with  the 
same  fervor  as  if  she  were  alone.  The  delighted 
audience  broke  into  applause.  But  their  feelings  at 
once  became  hers  too,  and  she  clapped  her  little 
hands  as  heartily  as  did  any  of  her  hearers.  Her 
parents  from  the  beginning  knew  her  to  be  a  golden 
child  and  gave  much  care  to  her   mental  growth. 


26  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

To  it  the  country  also  brought  its  precious  contribu- 
lions.  The  natural  thoughts  of  a  child,  the  poet  says, 
"  are  long,  long  thoughts."  Thoughts  of  these  dimen- 
sions come  most  easily  in  the  country.  A  daguerreo- 
type of  her,  taken  when  she  was  five  and  published 
here,  shows  that  she  already  has  them. 

Then  too  while  country  life,  especially  in  the  early 
years,  benumbs  the  intellect  that  is  merely  scholastic, 
it  calls  into  perpetual  activity  the  practical  intellect 
in  those  fortunate  enough  to  possess  it.  In  the  coun- 
try, when  one  needs  anjihing,  he  cannot  step  into  a 
neighboring  store  and  purchase  for  his  use  what  has 
been  provided  by  the  forethought  of  others.  He  is 
dependent  on  himself.  He  must  find,  invent,  or  go 
without  his  article;  either  master  nature  or  be  mas- 
tered by  her.  It  is  true  that  in  the  long  run  the 
majority  of  country  people  are  mastered  and  tamely 
submit  to  daily  inconvenience.  Nevertheless  it  is  a 
great  advantage  to  a  vigorous  young  person,  destined 
for  future  afl'airs,  to  be  brought  up  where  there  is 
little  division  of  labor,  where  therefore  ready  wuts 
and  practical  good  sense  are  at  a  constant  premium. 
On  the  whole  we  must  count  Alice  Freeman  fortu- 
nate in  those  early  circumstances  which  shaped  her 
originally  strong  intelligence  and  fitted  it  for  diverse 
and  ready  action. 

But  there  is  one  danger  which  besets  so  restricted 
a  household.    However   intelligent,   industrious,  or 


Portrait  at  Jive  years 


\ 


CHILDHOOD  27 

brave,  it  tends  to  routine  and  to  resting  satisfied  with 
the  supply  of  daily  needs.  Ideals  die  under  too  great 
pressure.  But  that  was  not  the  case  here;  for  hers 
were  ambitious  parents,  ambitious  for  attaining 
wider  work  through  self-improvement.  The  father 
was  a  man  of  unusual  kindness,  much  disposed  to 
look  after  those  about  him.  By  degrees  the  idea  of 
Lecoming  a  physician  took  strong  hold  of  him.  It 
was  encouraged  by  his  wife,  who  offered  to  maintain 
herself  and  the  four  children  during  the  two  years' 
absence  necessary  for  his  training  at  the  Albany 
Medical  School.  And  this  was  actually  accomplished 
between  Alice's  seventh  and  ninth  years.  Where 
means  were  found  for  maintaining  father  and  family 
during  the  audacious  interval  I  have  never  been  able 
to  discover.  Of  course  the  cares  of  the  household 
were  doubled,  yet  in  so  splendid  a  cause  as  to  fix 
forever  in  the  mind  of  one  of  them  the  wisdom  of 
sacrificing  present  comforts  to  ideal  ends.  Alice 
Freeman  never  forgot  those  glorious  years.  They 
were  among  the  few  events  of  her  childhood  to  which 
she  often  referred;  for  they  set  a  pattern  to  which 
she  was  ever  after  eager  to  conform,  of  noble  aims, 
willing  suffering,  resourcefulness,  persistence,  and 
ultimate  arrival  at  greater  ability  to  serve. 

When  Dr.  Freeman  returned,  equipped  for  pro- 
fessional work,  a  change  of  residence  became  ad- 
visable. The  farm  was  abandoned  and  a  house  was 


28  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

taken  in  the  village  of  Windsor.  Practice  came 
quickly  to  one  who  was  as  truly  a  physician  of  the 
mind  and  soul  as  of  the  body.  Soon  it  extended  over 
miles  of  the  surrounding  country.  In  his  long  rides 
among  his  scattered  patients  a  little  girl  accom- 
panied her  father.  To  drive  was  exhilarating;  she 
talked  to  him  on  the  road ;  she  held  the  horse  during 
his  visit ;  and  when  he  came  forth  grave  from  the  bed- 
side, she  shared  his  anxieties  over  the  dangerous 
case.  So  the  intimacy  between  the  pair  grew  strong. 
Among  her  papers  written  in  later  life  I  find  a  pas- 
sage evidently  suggested  by  these  early  years  in 
which  she  uses  their  happy  memories  to  interpret 
similar  experiences  in  the  life  of  a  friend  who  had 
died.    Of  this  friend  she  writes :  — 

"  She  was  fortunate  in  being  bred  in  the  country, 
responsive  to  its  birds  and  flowers,  to  the  stars  above 
her  head  and  the  stones  under  her  feet,  and  to  the 
simplicity  of  its  quiet  pleasures.  A  country  doctor's 
granddaughter,  she  came  close  in  childhood  to  his 
good  and  high  influence,  close  to  sickness,  to  sorrow, 
to  hardship,  and  to  loss.  In  sympathetic  relations 
with  him  she  learned  to  love  humankind  in  all  de- 
grees of  trouble  and  poverty,  as  well  as  to  rejoice  in 
natural  beauty.  She  has  told  me  of  that  village  home 
and  her  village  friends.  We  who  knew  her  used  often 
to  say,  even  down  to  these  last  years,  'You  have  a 
girl's  heart  and  a  country  girl's  loves  and  enthusi- 


CHILDHOOD  29 

asms.'  It  made  no  difference  that  she  went  forth 
into  high  public  station.  She  brought  back  from  the 
drawing-rooms  of  Washington  and  the  salons  of 
Paris  the  highmindedness,  the  human  affections,  and 
the  swift  sympathies  which  her  grandfather  gave  her 
through  long  contact  with  sorrow  and  heart-break." 
It  would  be  hard  to  describe  more  exactly  what 
Alice  Freeman  derived  from  her  father,  and  per- 
haps it  may  be  well  to  show  here  the  permanence  of 
that  influence,  and  the  sort  of  passionate  devotion  it 
fixed  in  her  for  the  silent  man  who  gave  it.  I  quote 
some  lines  which  she  wrote  the  year  before  she  died. 
Dr.  Freeman  had  been  struck  down  by  a  violent 
illness  which  seemed  likely  to  bring  sudden  death. 
She  was  summoned  from  Cambridge  by  telegraph. 
As  she  rode  she  wrote  the  following  verses,  showing 
them  to  no  one.  After  her  death  I  found  them  among 
her  papers,  marked  "  On  the  Train,  April  12,  1902." 
The  reference  in  the  fifth  stanza  is  to  her  sister 
Stella,  who  had  died  twenty-three  years  before. 

How  long  and  weary  stretch  the  miles  away 
Between  us,  O  my  father,  as  I  come 

To  catch  again  your  dear  voice,  if  I  may. 
Here  in  our  earthly  home. 

Perhaps  ere  this  your  lips  are  cold  and  still; 
Perhaps  you  hear  the  angels'  triumph  song, 


30  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

And  smile  upon  us  from  some  heavenly  hill 
The  blessed  saints  among. 

They  are  not  sick  or  sorry  any  more ; 

And  you  are  strong  and  young  and  glad  again. 
What  will  you  do  on  that  wide  shining  shore 

Where  all  are  free  from  pain  ? 

All  your  long  life  you  healed  the  sick  and  sad; 

You  gave  as  God  gives,  counting  not  the  cost. 
Your  presence  made  the  little  children  glad ; 

With  you  no  soul  was  lost. 

How  many  happy  ones  will  greet  you  there 
About  our  starlike  girl,  so  long  away! 

Ah,  but  to  see  her  shining  eyes  and  hair 
As  on  that  sad  June  day! 

I  will  not  grieve,  my  father,  for  your  peace. 

I  will  rejoice  if  you  have  won  your  rest 
Where  Springs  fade  not,  where  sorrows  ever  cease. 

And  all  the  good  are  blest. 


m 

GIRLHOOD 

The  settlement  at  Windsor  marks  a  second  period 
in  Alice  Freeman's  life.  By  degrees  she  turns  from 
childhood  to  girlhood.  What  the  nature  of  the  change 
is.  or  at  what  precise  time  it  occurs,  is  seldom  evident 
either  to  onlookers  or  to  the  child  herself.  But  the 
transition,  though  gradual,  is  momentous  and  not 
altogether  pleasing.  In  Alice  Freeman  I  judge  it 
appeared  about  two  years  earlier  than  ordinary. 

Girlhood  begins  when  little  by  little  the  child 
comes  to  think  for  herself  and  to  regard  herself  as 
a  person  of  importance.  She  accordingly  seeks  to 
assert  and  enlarge  that  importance.  Earlier  than  this 
she  has  hardly  had  possession  of  her  powers.  By 
herself  and  others  she  has  been  accounted  merely  a 
member  of  a  family.  Few  articles  are  called  hers. 
Her  wishes  are  not  much  regarded.  She  is  included 
in  family  plans,  but  has  too  little  experience  and 
foresight  to  form  them.  Very  properly  she  is  ex- 
pected to  subordinate  herself  to  her  elders,  the  chief 
work  of  the  years  of  childhood  being  to  train  us  to 
live  in  collective  fashion.  We  then  accept  the  property, 
knowledge,  beliefs,  habits,  ideals  accumulated  in  the 


32  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALIMER 

family  gi'oup.  During  absorptive  childhood  we  have 
little  which  we  have  not  received. 

Maturity  discloses  more.  Gradually  we  become 
aware  of  something  precious  within  us  which  is  just 
ourself .  We  are  somebody.  The  consciousness  that  I 
am  I  parts  me  from  others.  Not  that  we  then  cease 
to  recognize  duties  to  the  family.  These  continue,  but 
undergo  a  change.  Henceforth  we  perform  them  in 
freedom,  conscious  that  we  too  are  persons  of  im- 
portance and  have  duties  to  ourselves  as  well.  Other 
people  are  now  discovered  to  be  "  selves  "  also,  and  the 
adjustment  of  us  to  them  becomes  a  puzzling  prob- 
lem. The  period  when  this  self-consciousness  begins 
to  make  itself  felt  is  usually  an  awkward  one.  The 
early  spontaneous  charm  has  disappeared,  while 
personal  dignity  has  not  Jet  arisen.  Jarrings  and 
antagonisms  are  ordinary  indications  that  such  a 
period  is  approaching. 

That  one  so  sympathetic  as  Alice  Freeman  would 
be  saved  from  the  worst  of  such  clashes  may  easily 
be  guessed.  I  can  learn  of  few  of  the  self-assertions 
and  aberrations  which  usually  appear  in  this  epoch- 
making  transition.  She  had  a  will  of  her  own,  was 
liable  to  anger,  and  easily  resented  personal  annoy- 
ance. But  her  consciousness  of  much  beside  herself 
steadied  her.  Even  in  parting  from  the  family  she 
took  the  family  with  her.  Once  at  evening  prayers 
a  large  June-bug  buzzed  through  the  window  and 


w      o 


GIRLHOOD  33 

settled  in  a  curl  of  her  hair.  He  would  not  be  de- 
tached. She  kept  herself  quiet  through  the  several 
minutes  of  prayer;  then,  as  all  rose  from  their  knees, 
she  cried  out,  "  I  wanted  to  scream,  but  I  could  n't 
upset  you  and  God."  "  Of  course  not,"  said  her 
father,  gravely  dislodging  the  creature.  For  a  good 
while  bursts  of  passion  broke  out  when  her  will  was 
crossed.  She  would  throw  herself  down  and  beat  the 
floor  with  her  heels.  But  when  one  day  she  saw  her 
brother  in  a  similar  paroxysm,  she  examined  him 
with  horror  and  at  bedtime  told  her  mother  that  she 
should  never  be  angry  again.  "Fred  mustn't  be." 
And  though  through  after  life  rage  at  wrong  often 
boiled  below  the  surface  and  came  to  an  occasional 
explosion,  it  was  soon  controlled,  and  rarely  parted 
her  from  him  who  occasioned  it. 

Yet  however  considerately  the  transition  was 
managed,  childhood,  the  period  of  absorption  in  the 
family,  was  ending  as  Alice  Freeman  settled  into 
the  new  life  at  Windsor;  self-seeking  girlhood  began, 
an  epoch  stretching  forward  as  far  as  the  attainment 
of  the  college  degree.  In  this  period  the  vigorous 
girl  or  boy  longs  for  enlargement,  the  forces  ordi- 
narily impelling  most  powerfully  toward  it  being 
education,  love,  and  religion.  All  these  came  to 
Alice  Freeman,  as  they  come  to  every  girl;  but  to 
her  they  came  unusually  early,  orderly,  and  trans- 
formingly. 


34  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

The  considerable  village  of  Windsor  where  the 
family  was  now  living  contained  a  school  of  supe- 
rior rank,  Windsor  Academy.  Its  principal,  Joseph 
Eastman,  was  a  man  of  more  breadth  than  most 
country  towns  can  show.  After  graduating  from 
Dartmouth,  he  had  gone  through  the  Harvard  Medi- 
cal School  and  Andover  Theological  Seminary.  lie 
was  now  both  minister  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
in  the  village  and  principal  of  the  Academy.  Besides 
himself  the  Academy  employed  half  a  dozen  other 
teachers,  gave  instruction  in  the  languages,  and  was 
the  finishing  school  for  most  of  its  students.  It  was 
much  like  one  of  our  modern  high  schools,  though 
of  looser  organization  and  without  the  dominant  aim 
of  preparing  its  pupils  for  college.  On  coming  to 
Windsor  Dr.  Freeman  did  much  to  raise  its  grade 
and  to  change  it  from  the  school  of  a  village  to  an 
academy  for  all  the  country  around.  This  school 
Alice  entered  in  September,  1865.  Here  her  real 
education  began.  Previously  she  had  been  her  own 
teacher,  or  had  picked  up  what  little  was  to  be  had  on 
the  benches  of  a  district  school.  Here  at  the  age  of 
ten  she  learned  to  mix  with  a  considerable  company 
of  girls  and  boys,  to  feel  the  influence  of  accomplished 
teachers,  to  see  how  large  is  the  field  of  knowledge 
and  how  small  the  amount  which  any  one  can  gather- 
Young  as  she  was,  she  eagerly  seized  her  opportunity 
and  began  to  form  interests  of  her  own.  Throughout 


GIRLHOOD  35 

life  she  acknowledged  her  indebtedness  to  this 
important  school;  and  when  in  1901  the  Academy 
celebrated  its  semi-centennial,  she  visited  it  and 
renewed  her  gratitude  to  it  and  its  pretty  village. 
PVom  a  report  of  her  address  on  that  occasion  I  take 
the  following  passage :  — 

"  Words  do  not  tell  what  this  old  school  and  place 
meant  to  me  as  a  girl.  I  am  proud  to  say  that  I  was 
the  daughter  of  a  farmer  of  the  Susquehanna,  and 
for  me  there  never  can  be  another  such  village  as 
this.  When  I  graduated  in  1872  and  went  a  thousand 
miles  westward  to  college,  I  bore  away  remembrances 
of  our  magnificent  river,  its  enormous  width,  strong 
currents,  and  terrible  freshets.  But  I  recall  that 
when  a  college  classmate  came  home  with  me  for  a 
vacation,  her  eyes  were  reproachful  as  she  said,  'I 
thought  you  told  me  it  was  larger  than  the  Missis- 
sippi.' I  believed  then  that  all  the  nicest  people  lived 
in  Windsor.;  that  all  the  patriots  of  the  country  were 
of  our  political  party  —  no  matter  which  party ;  and 
that  all  the  good  people  belonged  to  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  No  one  told  me  so,  but  I  believed  it.  I  have 
changed  my  mind  about  some  things  since  then. 
But  my  faith  in  the  old  school  has  not  grown  less, 
but  more.  Here  we  gathered  abundant  Greek,  Latin, 
French  and  Mathematics,  though  we  have  forgotten 
a  part;  here  we  were  taught  truthfulness,  to  be  up- 
right and  honorable ;  here  we  had  our  first  loves,  our 


86  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

first  hopes,  our  first  ambitions,  our  first  dreams,  and 
some  of  us  our  first  disappointments.  We  owe  a 
large  debt  to  Windsor  Academy  for  the  soHd  ground- 
work of  education  which  it  laid."  I  still  have  her 
little  Greek  Testament  with  the  name  of  the  Academy 
penciled  on  the  fly-leaf. 

That  from  the  first  she  was  something  of  a  leader 
in  the  school  I  infer  from  the  foUov/ing  anecdote. 
In  the  winter  of  1867,  when  she  was  twelve,  four 
:;chools  of  Broome  County  held  a  literary  contest. 
Each  school  was  to  prepare  a  set  of  compositions. 
These  were  to  be  put  in  charge  of  a  delegate  for 
arrangement  and  for  public  reading.  The  other 
schools  chose  teachers  as  delegates;  Windsor  chose 
her.  She  carried  off  the  prize  on  all  three  counts: 
for  arrangement,  for  reading,  and  for  her  own 
composition. 

In  1868  a  deeper  impulse  began.  There  came  to 
the  Academy  a  singularly  inspiring  teacher.  Such  an 
event  has  formed  the  turning-point  of  many  a  life, 
and  more  often  than  any  other  has  been  decisive  in 
bringing  about  a  studious  career.  Some  one  person 
has  vitalized  knowledge  for  us  —  it  matters  little 
what  branch  —  and  almost  magically  our  vague  and 
variable  desires  for  learning,  power,  public  service, 
become  crystallized  and  take  a  shape  which  de- 
fies the  batterings  of  after  years.  Personal  influence 
is  a  commanding  factor  everywhere;   but  nowhere 


GIRLHOOD  37 

has  it  so  immediate  or  lasting  an  effect  as  in  the 
schools. 

Alice's  teacher  was  a  young  man  who,  after  grad- 
uating from  Union  College,  had  spent  a  year  in 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary.  Being  in  debt  for 
his  college  education,  he  thought  it  well  before  ad- 
vancing further  toward  his  profession  to  teach  a 
while  at  Windsor.  There  he  deeply  influenced  the 
whole  school,  for  his  character  was  as  strong  as  his 
scholarship.  But  he  had  the  discernment  to  single 
out  a  child  in  one  of  the  lower  classes,  and  to  this 
large-eyed  girl  gave  special  care.  Apparently  from 
the  first  he  knew  her  precocious  ability.  Whether 
she  would  ever  have  known  it  if  he  had  not  given  her 
insight,  I  have  doubted.  He  taught  her  both  ac- 
curacy and  enthusiasm.  He  made  her  think  herself 
worth  while.  He  lent  her  books,  fashioned  her  tastes, 
talked  with  her,  walked  with  her,  showed  her  a  great 
human  being  to  admire,  made  clearer  her  reverence 
for  Nature  and  for  God,  and  in  the  two  years  of  their 
acquaintance  transformed  her  into  a  woman.  Was 
it  strange  that  he  then  began  to  love  her  whom  he 
had  seemed  to  create?  I  have  told  how  she  was 
always  long  in  advance  of  her  years.  His  sure  eye 
knew  incipient  excellence,  and  his  idealizing  nature 
enjoyed  beauty  before  it  was  blown.  One  gets  a  high 
impression  of  a  man  who  could  be  so  affected  by  aa 
unfolding  thing.    On  her  side  there  seems  to  have 


38  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

been  dumb  wonder  and  obedient  esteem.  How  could 
she  refuse  what  one  so  exalted  asked  ?  She  could 
comprehend  little  of  his  love.  Through  all  he  had 
done  for  her  she  had  more  easily  felt  a  great  in- 
fluence than  understood  its  words.  But  if  in  that 
high  region  where  he  lived  he  wished  her  company, 
her  merry  laughter,  her  picture,  her  hand,  who  else 
could  have  an  equal  right  'i  With  few  girlish  dreams 
and  small  foresight  of  the  future,  but  seriously  and 
with  dignity,  she  consented  to  an  engagement  at 
fourteen. 

In  every  deep  nature  thoughts  of  love  are  allied 
with  thoughts  of  God.  This  year  she  joined  the 
Presbyterian  Church.  It  is  a  heroic  moment  for  any 
one  of  us  when,  face  to  face  with  God,  we  formally 
announce  that  henceforth  we  are  accountable  to  Him 
alone.  It  marks  the  attainment  of  full  self -conscious- 
ness. The  young  soul  now  takes  itself  in  charge  and 
says,  "Mine  is  the  decision,  I  have  chosen  my  way 
of  laying  hold  on  life."  The  authority  of  parents  is 
at  an  end,  supplanted  by  the  laws  of  reason,  right- 
eousness, and  human  welfare.  So  at  least  Alice 
Freeman  understood  her  crisis.  To  it  education, 
love,  and  religion  all  contributed.  Experiences  which 
fall  upon  most  of  us  separately  and  at  much  later 
periods  she  encountered  in  their  collective  force 
when  she  had  barely  entered  her  teens.  Her  scale  of 
growth  is  different  from  the  ordinary.  She  needed  to 


GIRLHOOD  39 

start  early,  so  as  to  pack  into  her  forty-seven  years 
what  others  hardly  include  in  their  threescore  and  ten. 

Always  devout,  she  now  consecrated  herself,  and 
for  the  rest  of  her  life  the  desire  for  the  utmost  serv- 
ice of  God's  children  seems  to  inspire  every  private 
impulse.  In  her  case  religion  did  not  appear  in  its 
negative  character,  as  restraint;  it  always  signified 
joyous  freedom  and  enlargement.  It  brought  as- 
surance of  humanity's  kinship  with  the  power  which 
dominates  all.  No  situation  can  therefore  arise  in 
which  hostile  forces  are  engaged  against  us,  nor 
need  we  be  crushed  by  an  indifferent  world.  Every 
harshest  circumstance  contains  some  novel  mode  of 
access  to  God  and  our  broader  life.  Of  these  matters 
she  seldom  spoke.  I  never  knew  her  to  argue  them. 
They  merely  represent  her  working  conviction,  con- 
firmed by  every  day's  experience.  Thus  she  viewed 
things,  and  things  were  ever  ready  to  respond.  Most 
of  us  lightly  assume  as  an  ultimate  ground  of  all 
some  sort  of  blind  force,  incomprehensible  stuflf 
which  we  should  be  incapable  of  demonstrating  if 
challenged.  She  thought  personal  life  as  she  knew 
it  in  herself  more  intelligible,  particularly  as  it  ren- 
dered an  otherwise  stupid  world  intelligible  too,  and 
enabled  her  ever}'where  to  live  in  her  Father's  house. 

But  the  broader  outlook  on  life  now  gained  was 
not  altogether  favorable  to  her  engagement.  Her 
bver  had  let  loose  forces  which  soon  passed  beyond 


40  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

his  control.  He  had  revealed  her  worth,  a  worth 
which  involved  responsibility  for  its  care.  He  had 
opened  unsuspected  capacities  which  must  now  be 
filled.  Through  him,  the  first  college  graduate  she 
had  known,  she  discovered  what  the  higher  traininj? 
signifies.  She  was  to  be  a  fellow-worker  with  God. 
To  make  herself  as  efficient  as  possible  became  then 
the  most  urgent  of  duties.  These  were  the  thoughts 
which  gradually  took  shape  in  her  puzzled  mind 
during  the  years  1869-71.  For  the  paths  of  culture 
and  allegiance  soon  divided.  In  1870  he  was  to 
enter  Yale  Theological  Seminary  and  make  his  final 
preparation  for  the  ministry.  He  proposed  that  she 
should  spend  this  time  in  completing  her  course  at 
Windsor,  and  afterwards  join  him  in  some  country 
parish.  The  proposal  revealed  what  marriage  with 
him  would  mean.  In  it  she  would  give  but  half  her- 
self. Such  a  fictitious  union  would  dishonor  both 
him  and  her.  She  was  too  young,  too  unexpanded. 
Until  she  had  undergone  college  discipline  she  would 
not  have  matured  herself  sufficiently  to  deserve  a 
strong  man's  love.  Marriage,  as  she  now  and  hence- 
forth conceived  it,  was  to  be  a  comradeship  of  equals 
where  each  contributes  rich  powers  of  different  kinds 
to  a  mutual  life. 

Accordingly  six  months  after  he  had  left  her  for 
New  Haven  they  parted,  parted  with  kindness  and 
deep  respect.    He  no  less  than  she  approved  the 


GIRLHOOD  41 

separation.  I  believe  they  never  met  again.  After 
two  years  in  Yale  Seminary  he  became  a  minister, 
and  until  his  death  was  loved  by  all  who  knew  him. 
He  married,  and  had  a  daughter  whom  he  named 
Alice.  Neither  could  ever  have  regretted  any  part 
of  the  invigorating  connection.  She  has  repeatedly 
spoken  to  me  of  her  debt  to  him  who  first  awakened 
her,  to  him  who  accompanied  her  so  delicately 
through  difficult  paths  of  decision,  and  who  was  in 
himself  so  admirable. 

Nor  did  his  chivalrous  protection  of  her  cease 
with  his  departure.  In  his  company  she  had  learned 
once  for  all  what  she  desired  in  marriage,  and  she 
was  henceforth  guarded  against  casual  and  un- 
worthy impulses  as  few  young  women  are.  It  was 
often  thought  strange  that  one  of  such  beauty,  re- 
sponsiveness, and  social  opportunity  could  so  long 
remain  single.  In  all  other  experiences  of  life  she 
anticipated  her  sex.  Was  this  delay  due  to  disparage- 
ment of  marriage  ?  No,  but  to  the  very  reverse.  And 
because  I  perceive  how  impossible  it  is  to  make  her 
career  comprehensible  if  I  conceal  these  intimate 
facts,  I  here  set  down  a  simple  statement  of  them. 

One  set  of  difficulties  in  the  way  of  going  to  college 
was  now  removed.  Another  remained.  Her  parents 
opposed  the  plan.  Few  had  ever  gone  to  college  from 
those  parts,  nor  was  it  usual  for  girls  to  go  at  all. 
The  family  means  were  scanty,  though  slightly  im- 


42  ALICE  FREEIVIAN  PALMER 

proved  since  farming  days.  The  younger  children 
were  becoming  expensive.  Dr.  Freeman  told  his 
daughter  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  more  than 
one  of  the  children  to  be  given  a  college  education, 
and  that  this  one  ought  to  be  the  son,  as  he  must 
ultimately  support  the  family.  Alice  declared  that 
she  meant  to  have  a  college  degree  if  it  took  her  till 
she  was  fifty  to  get  it.  If  her  parents  could  help  her, 
even  partially,  she  would  promise  never  to  marry 
until  she  had  herself  put  her  brother  through  college 
and  given  to  each  of  her  sisters  whatever  education 
they  might  wish  —  a  promise  subsequently  per- 
formed. She  pointed  out  the  importance  to  all  the 
family  of  her  becoming  one  of  its  supports  instead 
of  one  of  its  dependents.  The  discussions  were  long 
and  grave,  but  her  judgment  finally  prevailed.  She 
was  to  graduate  from  the  Academy  at  seventeen,  and 
it  was  agreed  that  she  should  then  immediately  enter 
college. 

In  the  year  before  she  went  two  events  occurred 
deserving  mention.  The  Windsor  church  found  that 
its  evening  meetings  were  unattractive  on  account 
of  inadequate  light.  There  was  no  central  chande- 
lier, and  the  few  lamps  scattered  about  the  room  left 
it  cheerless.  Though  Alice  was  then  gathering  means 
for  her  college  course,  she  presented  a  chandelier  to 
the  church,  earning  the  money  that  winter  and  going 
without  a  coat. 


GIRLHOOD  43 

During  the  winter,  too,  Anna  Dickinson  came  to 
Binghamton  for  an  evening  lecture  on  Joan  of  Arc. 
Alice  had  never  heard  a  woman  speak.  She  per- 
suaded her  father  to  take  her  in  the  sleigh  over  the 
more  than  twenty  miles  of  dark  country  road,  and 
was  deeply  moved  by  the  speaker. 

In  deciding  on  a  college  the  range  of  choice  was 
small.  Wellesley,  Smith,  and  Bryn  Mawr  were  not 
yet  in  existence.  Mount  Holyoke  was  still  a  "  Female 
Seminary,"  and  Elmira  hardly  more,  though  legally 
a  college.  To  this  latter  she  might  naturally  have 
gone,  as  the  college  for  girls  nearest  at  hand.  But 
she  had  been  reading  college  catalogues,  and  knew 
that  Elmira  standards  were  low.  To  Vassar,  which 
had  just  been  founded,  she  seems  to  have  inclined 
for  a  moment.  But  was  it  a  true  college,  or  merely 
another  Elmira?  A  boy  in  her  class  who  was  pre- 
paring for  Amherst  hinted  that  these  girls'  colleges 
were  a  contrivance  for  enabling  women  to  pretend 
that  they  had  the  same  education  as  men.  She  had 
suspected  as  much  herself,  and,  being  determined  to 
get  the  best,  had  already  begun  to  turn  toward 
coeducation.  But  coeducational  colleges  were  at 
that  time  few.  Michigan  was  the  strongest  of  them, 
and  had  opened  its  doors  to  women  only  two  years 
before.  That,  then,  distant  though  it  was,  she 
chose. 


IV 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

In  June,  1872,  Dr.  Freeman  took  his  daughter 
to  Ann  Arbor  to  see  the  University,  attend  Com- 
mencement, and  pass  the  entrance  examinations. 
But  here  her  resolution  met  with  a  sharp  rebuff.  She 
failed.  Good  as  the  Academy  had  been  for  supplying 
general  knowledge,  it  was  poorly  equipped  for  pre- 
paring pupils  for  college.  The  failure,  however, 
proved  as  fortunate  as  everything  else  which  befell 
this  favored  girl,  for  it  brought  her  to  the  notice  of 
the  remarkable  man  who  from  that  day  took  her 
under  his  peculiar  charge.  President  Angell  himself 
shall  tell  the  story :  — 

"In  1872,  when  Alice  Freeman  presented  herself 
at  my  office,  accompanied  by  her  father,  to  apply 
for  admission  to  the  University,  she  was  a  simple, 
modest  girl  of  seventeen.  She  had  pursued  her  studies 
in  the  little  Academy  at  Windsor.  Her  teachers  re- 
garded her  as  a  child  of  much  promise,  precocious, 
possessed  of  a  bright,  alert  mind,  of  great  industry, 
of  quick  sympathies,  and  of  an  instinctive  desire  to 
be  helpful  to  others.  Her  preparation  for  college 
had  been  meagre,  and  both  she  and  her  father  were 


THE  UNIVERSITY  45 

doubtful  of  her  ability  to  pass  the  required  examina- 
tions. The  doubts  were  not  without  foundation. 
The  examiners,  on  inspecting  her  work,  were  in- 
clined to  decide  that  she  ought  to  do  more  prepara- 
tory work  before  they  could  accept  her.  Meantime 
I  had  had  not  a  little  conversation  with  her  and  her 
father,  and  had  been  impressed  with  her  high  intel- 
ligence. At  my  request  the  examiners  decided  to 
allow  her  to  enter  on  a  trial  of  six  weeks.  I  was  con- 
fident she  would  demonstrate  her  capacity  to  go  on 
with  her  class.  I  need  hardly  add  that  it  was  soon 
apparent  to  her  instructors  that  my  confidence  was 
fully  justified.  She  speedily  gained  and  constantly 
held  an  excellent  position  as  a  scholar." 

But  the  deficiencies  of  the  past  hampered  progress. 
Already  she  was  much  in  need  of  rest  after  the  strain 
of  preparation;  yet  all  the  summer  before  entrance 
had  to  be  spent  in  clearing  away  conditions,  and  she 
remained  in  Ann  Arbor  through  the  vacations  of  that 
year,  engaged  in  study  for  the  same  purpose.  This 
business  of  removing  conditions  went  on,  too,  side 
by  side  with  the  regular  college  work,  lowering  the 
grade  of  the  latter  and  causing  frequent  exhaustion. 
At  intervals  the  assistance  of  a  teacher  became 
necessary,  still  further  depleting  her  scanty  means. 
Throughout  her  college  course  solicitudes  over  time, 
health,  and  money  never  ceased.  Yet  anxieties  seem 
rather  to  have  caused  elation  over  what  was  already 


46  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

had  than  depression  over  what  might  be  missed. 
College  training  had  been  so  long  desired  that  it  was 
welcomed  now  on  any  terms. 

And  indeed  on  almost  any  terms  it  is  delightful. 
For  most  of  us  the  period  of  learning  is  a  period  of 
romance.  We  are  young,  and  all  things  are  possi- 
ble. Every  circumstance  is  novel,  calculated  in  some 
way  to  serve  our  growth  and  happiness.  Even  those 
of  us  who  have  spent  our  early  years  in  toil  learn 
at  last  how  to  profit  by  play.  We  make  a  few  intimate 
friends  and  a  wide  circle  of  acquaintances.  We 
fashion  our  ideals,  compare  them  with  those  about 
us,  and  have  them  sharply  criticised.  The  physical 
world  more  deeply  discloses  its  wonders.  Through 
many  avenues  we  enter  into  the  heritage  of  the  race. 
Whatever  is  precious  in  the  past  and  has  been 
thought  worth  preserving  in  the  caskets  called  books 
is  offered  for  our  enrichment.  And  in  our  teachers 
we  have  wise  guides  who  not  only  conduct  us  to  these 
treasures,  but  point  out  their  human  significance. 
It  must  be  an  abnormal  girl  or  boy  who  does  not 
count  such  years  happy. 

All  this  Miss  Freeman  felt.  To  her  the  absurdly 
named  town  of  Ann  Arbor  was  ever  afterwards 
sacred  soil.  She  visited  it  as  often  as  possible,  and 
everywhere  her  face  brightened  at  the  sight  of  a 
classmate.  Notwithstanding  many  disturbances,  she 
has  repeatedly  told  me  of  the  extreme  pleasure  and 


THE  UNIVERSITY  47 

profit  of  these  years;  and  in  her  little  book,  "Why 
Go  to  College,"  she  has  given  a  glowing  picture  of 
the  gain  which  the  experiences  of  college  bring  to 
every  earnest  girl.  I  regret  therefore  that  most  of 
her  college  letters,  being  chiefly  of  a  business  nature, 
imperfectly  express  her  gaiety  or  even  her  studious 
interests.  From  them,  however,  aided  by  the  recol- 
lection of  classmates,  I  am  able  to  present  a  tolerable 
account  of  her  intellectual,  social,  religious,  physical, 
and  financial  progress  during  these  college  years. 

Her  scholarly  work  cannot,  I  suppose,  be  called 
quite  solid.  There  was  too  much  of  it  for  that.  The 
regular  studies  were  abundant ;  the  addition  of  those 
which  should  have  been  ended  in  the  preparatory 
school  made  the  amount  burdensome;  and  this 
became  overwhelming  when  increased  by  the  worthy 
engagements  outside  study  which  in  this  place  of 
opportunity  solicited  a  hitherto  secluded  girl.  From 
intellectual  disaster  she  was  saved  by  a  peculiarity 
of  her  constitution.  To  an  astonishing  degree  she 
was  always  swiftly  absorptive.  Whatever  in  her 
neighborhood  contained  human  nutriment  was  per- 
ceived and  seized  at  once.  All  became  hers  with 
slight  expenditure  of  time  or  effort.  Throughout  life 
she  gathered  half-instinctively  an  amount  of  know- 
ledge which  others  obtain  only  by  toil.  A  mother 
whose  son  was  in  the  University  at  this  time  relates 
how  he  used  to  come  home  saying,  "There's  a  girl 


48  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

in  my  class  who  knows  everything  —  everything!" 
And  one  who  was  associated  with  her  in  the  teaching 
of  history  at  Wellesley  tells  me  that  she  herself 
rarely  gained  any  new  historic  insight  and  reported 
it  to  Miss  Freeman  without  finding  that  Miss  Free- 
man was  familiar  with  it  already.  Indeed  her  sym- 
pathy with  truth  was  so  broad  and  discerning  that 
reality  opened  itself  to  her  on  every  side.  Could  she 
have  had  more  leisure  at  the  University,  she  might 
have  distinguished  herself  there;  though  perhaps 
even  then  her  liking  for  every  species  of  knowledge 
would  have  prevented  eminence.  She  would  not 
concentrate  attention  on  certain  subjects  to  the  neg- 
lect of  others.  Such  specialization  was  less  the  habit 
of  her  day  than  of  ours.  So  she  was  free  to  approach 
all,  and  in  all  she  managed  to  obtain  a  good  rank. 
History,  Greek,  English  literature,  and  to  some 
extent  mathematics,  were  the  studies  that  left  the 
deepest  impression,  chiefly,  I  suspect,  because  of 
the  excellence  of  the  instruction  in  these  subjects. 

Her  memory  was  good  and  her  observation  accu» 
rate.  I  think  she  retained  more  of  what  she  learned 
than  is  common.  One  is  often  struck  with  the  small 
stock  of  knowledge  carried  off  from  study,  even  by 
those  who  obtain  through  it  decided  intellectual  ad- 
vantage. Maturing  influences  and  facts  acquired 
seem  to  have  little  relation ;  and  no  doubt  if  one  of 
these  is  to  be  lost,  the  detailed    truths  had  better 


THE  UNIVERSITY  49 

go.  Miss  Freeman  kept  a  good  balance  between 
the  contrasted  gains.  During  these  years  her  mind 
grew  rapidly  in  range,  subtlety,  coherence,  and  in 
persistent  power  of  work.  But  she  bore  away  also 
a  body  of  knowledge  which  served  her  well  in  her 
career  as  a  teacher  and  in  the  subsequent  varied 
demands  of  a  busy  life.  At  Commencement  a  part 
was  assigned  her,  one  of  the  first  granted  to  the  girl 
students  of  Michigan.  President  Angell  tells  me  it 
captured  the  attention  of  her  audience  and  held  it 
firmly  throughout.  Its  subject  was  "The  Relations 
of  Science  and  Poetry"  —  an  indication,  I  suppose, 
that  she  had  already  come  upon  some  of  the  fun- 
damental problems  which  vex  the  scholar's  mind. 
But  of  at  least  equal  importance  with  the  know- 
ledge acquired  in  college  is  the  influence  on  a  student 
of  the  personality  of  his  teachers.  Some  of  these,  it 
is  true,  will  always  be  mere  purveyors  of  knowledge ; 
others,  more  insignificant  still,  inspectors  of  what  has 
been  learned  already.  But  in  every  college  faculty 
there  are  pretty  sure  to  be  certain  men  of  mark,  from 
whom  —  sometimes  in  the  course  of  instruction, 
sometimes  through  personal  acquaintance  —  a  stu- 
dent half-imperceptibly  carries  off  impressions  and 
impulses  of  incalculable  worth.  In  such  weighty 
personalities  the  University  of  Michigan  in  Miss 
Freeman's  time  was  exceptionally  rich.  Half  a 
dozen  of  them  helped  to  shape  this  responsive  girL 


50  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Of  familiar  intercourse  with  her  teachers  I  suspect 
she  enjoyed  more  than  is  generally  obtainable  to-day. 
President  and  Mrs.  Angell  had  her  much  in  their 
beautiful  home,  as  did  in  different  degrees  Profes- 
sors D  'Ooge,  Tyler,  and  Adams.  These  men  enriched 
her  outside  the  classroom  and  became  her  lifelong 
friends.  While  she  was  in  college  they  watched  over 
her  carefully,  and  when  she  went  forth  they  opened 
before  her  the  difficult  doors  of  the  world. 

In  those  days  women's  education  was  an  anxious 
experiment.  At  graduation  her  class  contained  sixty- 
four  men  and  eleven  women.  The  girls  were  there- 
fore studied  by  others  and  themselves  a  little  unduly. 
Heartily  welcomed  everywhere  though  they  were,  they 
could  not  take  what  each  day  brought  quite  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course.  Being  pioneers  and  representatives 
of  many  who  would  come  afterwards,  they  were 
burdened  with  a  sense  of  responsibility.  According  as 
they  conducted  themselves  their  sisters  would  have 
ampler  or  narrower  opportunities.  Such  conscious 
conditions  insure  uprightness,  but  are  hardly  so 
favorable  for  ease  and  the  graces.  They  had  at  least 
the  good  effect  of  banding  the  girls  together  and 
uniting  the  little  group  by  something  like  a  family 
tie.  Though  Miss  Freeman  was  one  of  the  younger 
members  of  this  family,  she  cjuickly  became  its  head 
by  virtue  of  her  practical  sagacity,  moral  force,  and 
personal  attractiveness.   President  Angell  writes :  — 


THE  UNIVERSITY  51 

"One  of  her  most  striking  characteristics  in  college 
was  her  warm  and  demonstrative  sympathy  with  her 
circle  of  friends.  Her  soul  seemed  bubbling  over 
with  joy,  which  she  wished  to  share  with  the  other 
girls.  While  she  was  therefore  in  the  most  friendly 
relations  with  all  the  girls  then  in  college,  she  was 
the  radiant  centre  of  a  considerable  group  whose 
tastes  were  congenial  with  her  own.  Without  assum- 
ing or  striving  for  leadership,  she  could  not  but  be 
to  a  certain  degree  a  leader  among  these,  some  of 
whom  have  since  attained  positions  only  less  con- 
spicuous for  usefulness  than  her  own.  Her  nature 
was  so  large  and  generous,  so  free  from  envy,  that 
she  was  esteemed  by  all  her  comrades,  whether  they 
cherished  exactly  her  ideals  or  not.  Wherever  she 
went,  her  genial  outgoing  spirit  seemed  to  carry  with 
her  an  atmosphere  of  cheerfulness  and  joy.  No  girl 
of  her  time  on  withdrawing  from  college  would  have 
been  more  missed  than  she." 

She  joined  several  college  clubs,  distinguished  her- 
self in  the  debating  society,  was  fond  of  long  walks 
through  the  fertile  Michigan  country,  and  always  had 
leisure  for  a  share  in  whatever  picnic,  sleighride,  or 
student  entertainment  called  for  merriment,  adven- 
ture, inventiveness,  or  social  tact. 

Throughout  life  she  thought  herself  fortunate  in 
having  chosen  a  coeducational  college.  The  natural 
association  of  girls  with  boys  in  interests  of  a  noble 


^'t.^ 

s-^^-^ 


^-e;*^ 


52  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

sort  tends,  she  believed,  to  broaden  their  vision,  to 
solidify  their  minds,  and  to  remove  much  that  is  hec- 
tic and  unwholesome  from  the  awakening  instincts  of 
sex.  She  did  not  think  it  made  girls  boyish,  or  boys 
girlish ;  but  merely  that  it  brought  good  sense  and  a 
pleased  companionship  to  take  the  place  of  giddi- 
ness and  sentimentality.  She  used  to  say  that  co- 
educational marriages  seldom  appear  in  the  divorce 
courts.  I  think  her  ow^n  manners  —  as  quiet  and 
free  among  men  as  among  women  —  owed  much  of 
their  naturalness  to  the  fact  that  at  no  period  of  her 
life  did  men  become  strange.  Professor  Hale  of 
Chicago  has  well  said,  "It  was  Mrs.  Palmer's  con- 
viction that  the  normal  form  of  education  for  both 
sexes  is  that  in  which  the  natural  relations  —  begun 
in  the  life  of  the  home  and  the  neighborhood,  con- 
tinued for  the  great  majority  in  the  life  of  the  school, 
and  inevitably  existing  in  the  later  social  life  —  are 
carried  without  break  through  the  four  years  of 
higher  intellectual  work.  She  may  have  been  right 
or  she  may  have  been  wrong ;  but  that  such  a  woman, 
with  her  personal  experience  of  Ann  Arbor,  of  Welles- 
ley,  of  Radcliffe,  and  of  Harvard,  should  have 
held  this  belief  is  a  fact  to  be  reckoned  with."  In 
tracing  her  development  at  Ann  Arbor  we  must  not 
omit  to  notice  the  ability  she  gained  there  to  com- 
prehend a  man's  world.  Certainly  from  that  univer- 
sity came  many  of  the  best  ideals  of  college  structure 


THE  UNIVERSITY  53 

which  subsequently  entered  into  the  foundation  of 
Wellesley.  I  doubt  if  she  could  have  built  that 
woman's  college  so  strongly  if  she  had  not  herself 
been  trained  in  the  company  of  men. 

Side  by  side  with  the  studious  and  social  interests 
of  college  life  went  religion,  of  which  they  were  in 
reality  only  a  special  expression ;  for  religion  glorified 
her  entire  existence.  One  who  knew  her  well  at  this 
time  says  that  even  then  "her  religious  life  was  of 
that  cheerful,  inspiring  type  which  characterized  it 
in  her  maturer  years  and  which  always  commended 
the  Christian  faith  in  winsome  ways  to  those  who 
came  within  her  influence." 

At  the  beginning  of  her  residence  in  Ann  Arbor 
she  connected  herself  with  the  Presb}i;erian  Church, 
of  which  Samuel  Willoughby  DufScld  was  the  pastor. 
He  was  a  man  of  enthusiasm  and  scholarship,  in 
many  respects  akin  to  herself,  and  to  him  she  became 
warmly  attached.  Every  Sunday  she  attended  two 
church  services,  taught  in  the  Sunday  School,  in  a 
mission  school  also,  and  was  usually  present  at  one 
or  two  services  during  the  week.  But  into  the  College 
Christian  Association  she  threw  herself  with  the 
utmost  ardor,  vitalizing  that  body  and  delivering  it 
from  the  narrowness  which  in  those  days  often  beset 
such  organizations.  She  brought  it  to  represent 
more  than  a  single  type  of  character.  While  she  was 
its  leader  it  became  a  strong  power  for  righteousness 


54  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

throughout  the  entire  town.  To  her,  too,  her  class- 
mates,  men  and  women,  most  naturally  turned  as  a 
spiritual  adviser.  The  knowledge  she  thus  obtained 
of  the  troubles  of  the  young,  real  or  imaginary, 
proved  useful  in  the  larger  contacts  of  later  years, 
and  even  now  began  to  shape  the  ideals  of  w  hat  she 
meant  to  do.  Before  she  left  college,  the  desire  to 
deepen,  to  lighten,  to  render  more  intelligent  and 
joyous  the  lives  of  girls  and  women,  had  become 
clearly  defined. 

I  have  said  that  consumption  was  in  her  family, 
and  that  from  childhood  she  had  never  been  strong 
The  lungs  and  heart  were  weak  and  there  was  a  dis- 
position to  colds  and  fatigue.  That  "  outgoing  spirit " 
too,  of  which  President  Angell  speaks,  continually 
exposed  her  to  excessive  strain.  Whatever  human 
interest  or  need  appeared  in  her  neighborhood  was 
pretty  sure  to  receive  attention.  To  consider  and 
spare  herself  never  became  instinctive,  though  in 
later  years  she  trained  her  powers  to  some  degree  of 
restraint  for  the  sake  of  broader  use.  But  swift 
responsiveness  and  a  kind  of  spendthrift  generosity 
have  ever  been  beautiful  faults  of  admirable  women. 
Even  Providence  seems  unfairly  indulgent  to  self- 
forgetting  souls  and  unaccountably  wards  off  from 
them  appropriate  harm.  How  she  accomplished  all 
she  did,  accomplished  it  too  with  distinction,  is  a 
mystery.     On  account   of  an    interruption    in   her 


THE  UNIVERSITY  S5 

junior  year,  she  had  as  a  senior  twenty  hours  a 
week  of  recitations,  and  no  less  as  a  freshman, 
though  her  social  and  religious  engagements  were 
alone  sufficient  to  fill  her  time.  Yet  she  graduated, 
as  do  most  girls,  stronger  than  she  entered.  Studying 
is  wholesome  business;  and  after  all,  college  life  has 
more  regular  hours  and  more  invigorating  agencies 
than  most  homes  can  offer.  But  considering  her  in- 
heritance, the  exhausting  nature  of  the  last  two  years 
at  Windsor,  and  the  burden  of  her  deficient  prepara- 
tion, it  is  not  strange  that  her  letters  often  speak 
of  being  "tired"  and  of  the  hope  that  her  cold  "  will 
be  better  next  week."  One  of  the  professors  whom 
she  saw  oftenest  tells  me  he  frequently  remonstrated 
with  her  over  the  cough  she  brought  to  college,  a 
cough  which  continued  until  a  few  years  before  her 
death. 

Financial  anxieties  burdened  her  too.  There  was 
always  uncertainty  whether  she  would  be  able  to 
continue  in  college  another  year.  From  the  begin- 
ning her  parents  had  strained  their  slender  purse  to 
the  utmost,  and  she  herself  earned  whatever  Vv^as  pos- 
sible. But  resources  still  remained  small  and  ex- 
penses large.  To  bring  the  tw^o  at  all  together  called 
for  restraint,  courage,  ingenuity,  and  a  readiness  to 
do  things  for  herself.  I  have  thought  it  well  to  print 
one  or  two  letters  which  show  the  details  of  this 
pathetic  struggle.   They  can  hardly  be  read  without 


56  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

tears  and  smiles.  But  every  college  teacher  will 
recognize  them  as  typical  letters,  such  as  still  go 
home  from  every  part  of  the  country  where  brave 
young  men  and  women  are  using  skill  and  dignity 
to  compass  knowledge. 

The  circumstances  of  the  family  had  not  improved. 
When  Miss  Freeman  entered  college,  prospects  were 
bright.  Considerable  woodlands  on  the  farm  pro- 
mised, if  properly  developed,  to  yield  a  good  return; 
but  such  development  required  money  and  constant 
supervision,  while  a  country  doctor  could  furnish 
little  of  either.  In  consequence,  each  year  grew 
harder  than  the  one  before.  Floods  too  along  the 
Susquehanna  finally  swept  away  a  great  body  of 
lumljer  which  had  gradually  been  collected  there. 
In  the  middle  of  her  junior  year  letters  from  home 
disclosed  serious  entanglement.  She  did  not  wait  for 
consultation  with  her  family,  but  applied  at  once  to 
President  Angell  for  a  position  as  a  teacher,  accepted 
an  appointment,  travelled  to  her  new  home  at 
Ottawa,  Illinois,  and  was  already  established  in  her 
duties  there  before  she  informed  her  parents.  This 
was  in  January,  1875,  when  she  was  not  twenty 
years  old. 

The  Ottawa  High  School  had  suddenly  lost  its 
principal  and  needed  a  prudent  management  to  keep 
it  from  going  to  pieces.  She  became  its  head.  It  was 
the  first  school  in  which  she  ever  taught,  while  many 


THE  UNIVERSITY  57 

of  its  pupils  were  nearly  her  own  age.  The  other 
schools  of  the  town  were  subordinate  to  this,  and  their 
teachers  were  men  and  women  of  experience.  The 
amount  of  her  teaching,  principally  in  Greek  and 
Latin,  was  large;  and  what  was  not  contracted  for, 
though  equally  necessary,  was  more  difficult  still,  — 
the  winning  of  the  confidence  of  her  pupils  and  the 
town.  She  gave  of  her  best.  At  the  close  of  the 
twenty  weeks  for  which  she  had  engaged  herself, 
she  was  urged  by  all  connected  with  the  school  to 
remain  in  it  permanently.  But  she  declined.  The 
salary  had  been  ample.  Out  of  it  she  relieved  the 
family  necessities  and  secured  the  finishing  of  her 
college  course.  After  spending  the  summer  at  home 
she  returned  to  Ann  Arbor,  making  up  the  omitted 
studies  partly  during  the  vacation  and  partly  in  con- 
nection W'ith  the  work  of  the  senior  year. 

For  the  brief  selection  of  letters  which  follows  I 
am  fortunate  in  finding  some  that  picture  the  ordinary 
current  of  college  affairs;  some  that  show  its  per- 
plexities; some  that  reveal  a  spirit  already  moving 
toward  self-confidence  and  reform;  some  written  at 
Ottawa,  w^here  the  first  success  is  had  in  teaching. 
I  do  not  date  them.  It  is  not  always  possible.  And 
they  are  arranged  rather  by  subject  than  by  time. 
All  are  youthful,  artless,  hasty,  intended  for  only 
the  receiver's  eye.  But  surely  the  lucidity  and  eleva- 
tion of  their  young  writer  will  please. 


58  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

LETTERS 

Dear  ones  at  home,  you  will  expect  a  letter  from 
me  immediately;  so,  though  I  am  very  tired,  I  am 
going  to  write.  Read  it  if  you  can.  I  arrived  at 
50  State  Street  at  noon  about  an  hour  ago,  and  found 
Mrs.  Williams  expecting  me.  I  have  a  pleasant  room, 
nicely  furnished,  with  everything  any  one  could 
want,  even  to  bookshelves:  a  pretty  little  stove,  an 
ingrain  carpet,  a  table  and  cover.  Mrs.  Williams 
had  dinner  waiting,  and  I  am  sure  it  will  be  a 
pleasant  boarding-place.  On  one  side  of  the  house 
there  is  a  large  brick  building,  where  there  is  a 
school  for  little  children.  Just  now  they  are  mak- 
ing all  the  noise  it  is  possible  for  boys  to  make.  On 
the  other  side  they  are  building  a  church.  So  this 
afternoon,  when  my  head  aches,  my  surroundings 
are  not  quite  perfect ;  but  I  think  I  shall  get  used 
to  it  after  a  little  while. 

Coming  here  I  rode  in  the  car  where  you  put  me, 
without  changing  until  just  before  reaching  Niagara 
Falls.  At  Elmira  a  young  gentleman  and  his  sister 
came  into  my  car.  They  were  going  West  too.  He 
saw  I  was  alone  and  spoke  to  me,  after  which  we 
three  went  together.  The  conductor  told  us  if  we 
would  exchange  for  a  berth  on  the  sleeper  we  could 
go  through  to  Detroit  without  further  change.  So 
the  young  man  took  a  berth  for  his  sister  and  myself. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  59 

and  slept  on  a  couch  near  by.  They  were  bound 
for  Chicago,  and  took  the  drawing-room  coach  at 
Detroit.  We  parted  company  there.  It  was  pleasant 
for  me;  but  we  don't  know  each  other's  names, 
only  his  sister  called  him  "Joe."  He  bought  us  nice 
grapes  at  London,  with  which  we  stained  our  dresses. 
The  car  from  Detroit  to  Ann  Arbor  was  crowded, 
but  another  accommodating  young  man  gave  me  his 
seat.  All  the  way  I  have  been  fortunate  and  have 
had  to  spend  only  $2.75.  I  shall  write  again  very 
soon. 

I  have  just  passed  five  examinations  and  feel 
pretty  well  satisfied  with  the  result  of  my  semester's 
work.  We  had  the  usual  number  of  visitors  and 
spectators.  I  was  called  up  for  oral  examination  in 
ever}ihing,  but  was  fortunate  enough  not  to  blunder 
and  so  can't  complain. 

In  Latin  something  happened  which  amused  the 
boys  very  much.  Professor  Frieze  has  just  returned 
from  Europe  and  of  course  does  n't  know  any  of  us 
yet.  After  we  had  been  writing  for  some  time  and 
all  the  company  had  come  in,  our  Professor  Walter 
called  up  Miss  Freeman.  He  named  one  of  Horace's 
long  hard  Satires,  giving  me  a  book  and  asking  me 
to  read  it,  "  thinking  it  would  be  interesting  to  the 
gentlemen."  It  happened  to  be  one  I  knew  perfectly, 
and  I  read  it  immediately  —  apparently  to  the  aston- 


60  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

ishment  of  Professor  Frieze.  As  I  finished,  Professor 
Walter  said  to  him,  "  Have  you  any  questions  ?  " 
Professor  Frieze  looked  at  me  gravely,  shook  his 
head,  and  growled,  "No.  "What's  her  name?" 
Then  the  boys  laughed. 

In  Greek  too  I  could  n't  have  asked  a  better  chance 
to  show  off.  Professor  Pattingill  expressed  his  appro- 
bation. This  is  boasting  enough,  but  I  thought  you'd 
want  to  know  how  your  little  girl  is  prospering. 
There  is  an  unheard-of  number  conditioned,  over 
eighty  in  one  class,  but  only  one  girl.  Our  class,  too, 
is  noted  for  its  high  scholarship.  My  special  studies 
this  semester  are  Juvenal's  Satires,  Calculus,  and 
Astronomy,  with  all  of  which  I  am  delighted. 

I  have  received  all  the  letters  you  mention,  but  have 
only  $16.00.  Perhaps  you  have  sent  more  and  I  have 
made  some  mistake.  But  I  think  not.  Never  mind. 
I'll  pay  it  all  back  some  time.  I  ought  to  settle  my 
account  here  as  soon  as  possible.  If  papa  can  send 
me  money  for  the  bills  I  shall  be  very  glad.  Provi- 
sions are  very  high,  as  usual  in  spring,  and  my  bills 
are  still  more  at  the  Club. 

I  have  been  just  as  economical  as  possible  all  the 
year,  but  of  course  the  money  you  have  been  able  to 
send  has  n't  been  sufficient.  We  have  had  to  burn  a 
great  deal  of  wood,  as  it  has  been  and  still  is  very 
cold;  and  my  bill  will  be  a  little  over  $12.00.  I  had 


THE  UNIVERSITY  61 

to  get  me  a  new  pair  of  shoes.  You  know  I  had  only 
the  cloth  ones  which  I  wore  last  summer.  They 
lasted  until  this  spring.  I  wore  my  blue  hat  just  as  it 
was  all  winter,  and  am  wearing  my  old  black  one 
now.  I  got  two  yards  of  black  ribbon  and  trimmed 
it  myself.  I  bought  a  pair  of  cheap  black  kid  gloves 
a  few  days  ago,  some  lace  for  my  neck  and  sleeves, 
and  a  fresh  ribbon.  I  have  got  nothing  I  could  do 
without ;  but  you  know  I  have  to  be  dressed  well  all 
the  time  in  the  position  I  am  in.  I  think  I  have  all 
the  books  I  shall  need.  They  have  cost  me  more 
than  usual.  But  the  most  of  the  money  you  have  sent 
has  been  paid  for  board. 

If  you  can  help  me  through  this  year  I  will  try  as 
best  I  may  to  take  up  the  paddle  and  push  my  own 
canoe  afterwards.  WTiatever  comes,  dear  mother,  I 
know  is  best  for  me.  It  is  all  right.  Still  I  believe 
God  helps  only  those  who  help  themselves.  I  shall 
try  to  do  my  part,  and  I  fully  expect  He  will  do  the 
rest.  Mother  dear,  I  have  come  to  several  places, 
even  so  soon,  where  I  could  only  see  one  step  ahead  ; 
but  as  soon  as  I  have  taken  that,  another  has  been 
opened  for  me.  That  is  all,  I  suppose,  that  is  really 
necessary,  though  it  is  n't  very  pleasant.  So  I  am 
waiting  and  trusting  and  working  just  as  hard  as  I 
can  while  the  day  lasts.  Don't  make  yourself  un- 
happy nor  let  any  of  the  rest  do  so.  Why  should  jou 
when  He  has  said,  "Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God 


62  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

and  all  things  shall  be  added."  If  our  Father  wants 
me  to  go  through  college,  I  know  I  shall  go;  and  if 
He  does  n't,  I  don't  want  to.  That  is  the  end  of  it. 
Meanwhile  I  am  planning  and  thinking.  If  it  comes 
to  anything,  I  will  report. 

Now  I  must  stop  and  get  a  lesson  in  rhetoric  of 
thirty  pages  for  to-morrow  at  eight  o'clock.  You  see 
my  life  in  these  days  is  full.  I  try  to  do  just  as  much 
every  day  as  I  would  if  it  were  my  last  in  college.  It 
is  n't  long  now  before  I  shall  see  you,  and  you  will 
see  your  tired  child. 

Ann  Arbor  has  been  in  uncontrollable  excitement 
this  week.  Thirty  boys  have  been  suspended  for  the 
remainder  of  the  year,  and  one  expelled.  It  is  said 
to  be  a  thing  unheard-of  in  the  history  of  American 
colleges.  I  send  you  only  two  of  the  numerous  publi- 
cations on  the  affair.  I  never  went  through  such  a 
week  in  my  life.  You  don't  know  anjihing  about 
it  unless  you  are  in  the  midst  of  it.  The  senior  and 
junior  classes  are  aroused,  and  the  whole  body  of 
students  "bolted"  chapel  two  mornings  last  week. 
At  a  great  meeting  a  petition  was  sent  to  the  Faculty, 
signed  by  sixty-five  sophomores  and  seventy  fresh- 
men, asking  to  be  sent  off  too,  as  they  were  equally 
guilty.  If  there  is  a  general  suspension,  the  two 
classes  will  go  in  a  body  to  Cornell.  The  boys  who 
did  n't  sign  the  petition  have  promised  to  go  too.  It 


THE  UNIVERSITY  63 

is  the  greatest  shaking  which  the  college  has  ever 
had. 

Small-pox  is  spreading  dreadfully.  It  was  taken 
from  a  subject  in  the  dissecting  room,  and  over 
thirty  of  the  medical  students  have  it.  One  died  of 
it  yesterday.  As  soon  as  cases  break  out  they  are 
taken  to  the  pest-house,  though  some  are  too  sick  to 
be  moved.  A  panic  prevails  and  the  citizens  are 
trying  to  have  the  university  closed.  This  certainly 
will  not  be  done  until  after  examination  time,  though 
possibly  then  if  the  disease  continues  to  spread.  A 
great  many  students  have  gone  home,  but  I'm  not 
afraid.  I  should  be  more  afraid  to  set  off  travelling 
now. 

I  went  to  the  Opera  last  week  with  Mr.  W.  I  can't 
describe  it  to  you.  It  was  all  light  and  music  and 
dancing,  magnificent  costumes  and  amazing  trans- 
actions, very  brilliant  and  graceful  and  beautiful. 
The  house  was  crowded.  I  wore  my  blue  suit,  which, 
with  my  blue  and  white  hat  and  white  gloves,  makes 
a  pretty  outfit  for  such  an  occasion.  I  enjoyed  the 
evening  exceedingly.  But  I  found  myself  handed  to 
my  door  at  eleven  o'clock  with  a  nervous  headache 
and  a  very  tired  body.  It  pays  to  go  once,  but  it 
would  n't  do  for  a  University  girl,  with  her  head  and 
hands  more  than  full,  to  indulge  in  such  exciting 
pleasures  often. 


64  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

I'm  sorry  I  could  n't  write  you  on  Sunday,  but  I 
was  very  busy,  had  my  hat  off  only  once  between 
church  and  bed-time,  and  that  was  when  I  ate  my 
dinner.  It  was  the  first  Sunday  when  it  has  n't  rained 
since  I  came  from  home.  Church  begins  at  half-past 
ten.  Then  comes  my  Bible  class  till  two.  At  half -past 
two  I  go  to  the  class  in  the  Greek  Testament.  On 
Sundays  dinner  is  at  three.  After  it  F.  and  I  went 
over  to  the  cemetery,  —  as  beautiful  a  place  as  you 
can  think  of  — so  many  trees  there,  as  shady  and  still 
as  a  forest.  I  never  saw  so  many  squirrels,  and  they 
say  it  is  full  of  birds  in  summer.  I  could  spend  a  week 
there.  Then  the  young  people  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  have  a  prayer-meeting  at  six  o'clock,  which  I 
always  attend,  and  preaching  comes  at  seven.  Of 
late  there  has  been  great  interest  in  religion  here. 
Our  meetings  are  full. 

At  my  mission  school  there  are  about  eighty 
scholars  and  only  six  or  seven  teachers.  Several  of 
these  attend  pretty  irregularly.  The  children  are 
mostly  German,  bright  and  interesting.  The  super- 
intendent is  a  senior  in  college.  He  told  me  this 
afternoon  that  he  had  given  me  the  worst  class  in 
school,  but  he  wanted  me  to  try  them.  They  have 
had  a  variety  of  teachers,  who  have  n't  succeeded  in 
keeping  even  decent  order.  Some  of  them  are  cer- 
tainly bold  and  bad  looking.  They  are  boys  from 
ten  to  fifteen  and  are  pretty  nearly  unmanageable. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  65 

Well,  it 's  an  experiment,  and  I  suppose  they  will  give 
me  more  than  one  problem  this  winter.  I'm  sure  I 
had  my  hands  full  this  afternoon. 

This  is  the  first  day  of  vacation.  I  have  been  so 
busy  this  year  that  it  seems  good  to  get  a  change,  even 
though  I  do  keep  right  on  here  at  work.  For  some 
time  I  have  been  giving  a  young  man  lessons  in  Greek 
each  Saturday.  It  has  taken  about  all  day,  and  with 
all  my  college  work  has  kept  me  very  busy.  I  have 
had  two  junior  speeches  already,  and  there  are  still 
more.  Several  girls  from  Flint  tried  to  have  me  go 
home  with  them  for  the  vacation,  but  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  stay  and  do  what  I  could  for  myself  and  the 
other  people  here.  A  young  Mr.  M.  is  going  to 
recite  to  me  every  day  in  Virgil ;  so  with  teaching 
and  all  the  rest  I  shan't  have  time  to  be  homesick, 
though  it  will  seem  rather  lonely  when  the  other 
girls  are  gone  and  I  don't  hear  the  college  bell  for  two 
weeks. 

My  mission  school  is  prosperous,  though  I  found 
my  class  pretty  badly  demoralized  by  the  vacation. 
It  has  been  hard  work  pulling  it  into  order  again. 
Two  missionaries  from  Turkey  are  here,  one  a  gradu- 
ate of  this  university.  He  spoke  in  the  hall  last  night 
to  an  audience  of  two  thousand.  I  met  him  yesterday 
and  had  a  good  deal  of  talk  with  him,  and  he  was 


66  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

in  all  my  recitations  to-day.  He  says,  "  We  want 
you.  Miss  Freeman,  in  Central  Turkey;  "  Professor 
D'Ooge  adds,  "  We  want  you  in  the  United  States." 
They  have  finally  concluded  to  leave  it  to  me ;  and 
I  don't  believe  I'm  wanted  very  badly  anywhere. 

This  week  has  been  one  of  the  saddest  I  have  spent 
here,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Miss  S.  is  get- 
ting well.  She  is  now  so  much  better  that  there  is  lit- 
tle doubt  of  her  entire  recovery,  and  she  will  soon  go 
home.  I  sat  up  all  night  with  her  Wednesday.  The 
girls  take  turns  in  looking  after  her,  which  we  shan't 
need  to  do  much  longer.  But  death  has  come  among 
us  this  week.  Mr.  C.  of  '75  was  one  of  my  good 
friends.  Last  year  he  was  elected  President  of  our 
Lecture  Association,  the  highest  office  of  the  senior 
class.  Dr.  Angell  says  he  was  the  foremost  man  in 
his  class.  I  came  to  know  him  in  the  Association, 
where  he  was  very  prominent.  He  was  preparing 
for  the  ministry.  A  week  ago  he  was  at  the  prayer 
meeting  and  afterwards  talked  to  me  earnestly  of  his 
plans  for  next  winter.  He  lives  only  a  few  miles  from 
here  and  goes  home  every  Saturday.  As  he  started 
for  home  last  week  he  remarked  to  a  friend  that  he 
was  not  feeling  quite  well ;  and  almost  before  we  had 
missed  him  news  came  on  Tuesday  that  he  was  dead. 
Brain  fever  did  its  work  in  three  days,  and  carried 
off  one  of  the  noblest  men  I  shall  ever  know.    His 


THE  UNIVERSITY  67 

class  went  in  a  body  to  the  funeral  and  the  entire 
university  is  completely  shocked. 

Ottawa 
My  first  week  here  was  hard.  Of  course  there  are 
many  things  to  get  used  to,  and  so  many  strange 
names  and  faces  to  put  together.  But  it  will  all  grow 
easier  after  a  time,  and  I  have  been  feeling  pretty 
well.  I  begin  at  nine  in  the  morning  and  end  at  half- 
past  four.  Then  I  have  my  registers  and  class  books 
to  arrange,  and  so  don't  go  home  until  supper  time. 
After  that  I  have  eight  lessons  to  prepare  for  the  next 
day,  which,  when  I'm  tired,  costs  some  effort.  I  try 
to  spend  the  entire  evening  on  these ;  only  I  have  had 
calls  every  evening  so  far,  which  takes  time,  you 
know.  Friday  nights  I  arrange  the  standing  of  each 
one  and  count  the  absences.  If  these  amount  to  three 
half  days,  I  send  a  note  to  the  parents.  Once  a  week 
we  have  essays,  declamations,  and  select  readings; 
and  Saturday  afternoons  I  have  essays  to  criticise. 
Then  I  board  three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the 
school,  and  that  takes  time,  but  I  like  it.  Saturday 
I  got  at  my  merino  dress,  put  a  new  braid  on,  and 
sewed  all  the  evening  as  hard  as  possible.  I  don't 
know  when  I  have  improved  every  minute  as  I  have 
been  obliged  to  here.  It  is  a  very  good  thing.  I  had 
such  an  abominable  habit  of  wasting  time,  and  I'm 
likely  to  get  cured.   You  must  tell  me  all  about  our 


68  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

classes  and  what  is  doing  each  week.  I  get  so  hun- 
gry to  hear  it  all.  I  just  devoured  your  letter.  Do 
tell  me  the  little  things. 

Yesterday  an  Irishman  living  in  this  street,  while 
drunk,  struck  his  wife  with  an  ax,  hitting  her  over 
the  head,  in  fact  pounded  her  almost  to  death.  She 
was  in  terrible  pain.  A  neighbor  called  the  doctor, 
who  was  with  her  till  she  died  just  before  noon ;  but 
he  could  do  little  for  her.  There's  no  doubt  that  hei 
husband  killed  her.  What  is  worse,  she  herself  dranl? 
almost  as  much  as  he,  and  was  a  very  bad  woman. 
There's  one  little  boy.  Oh,  L. !  Don't  you  wish  we 
could  stop  this  dreadful  liquor  selling  ?  That's  where 
the  blame  lies.  If  I  were  a  man,  would  n't  I  do  some- 
thing .^  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  should  n't  wonder  if  I 
should  as  it  is. 

Your  letter  came  Wednesday  in  a  terrible  snow- 
storm, itself  almost  like  a  great  snowflake,  and  made 
me  want  to  go  to  you.  For  a  while  I  felt  as  if  I  must 
put  my  arms  about  you  and  try  to  comfort  you.  But 
I  could  only  come  up  here  by  myself  and  pray  that 
the  dear  Christ,  who  loves  and  pities  you,  would  give 
you  peace  and  rest.  After  all,  I  am  afraid  that  is  all  I 
can  ever  do.  Perhaps  it  is  the  most  any  of  us  can  do 
for  each  other,  no  matter  what  our  love  may  be.  But 
you  are  not  "  all  alone."  Don't  ever  say  so.  "  Lo,  I 


THE  UNIVERSITY  69 

am  with  you  always,  even  unto  the  end."  I  think  of 
you  so  often  this  hard  examination  week,  so  much 
harder  now  when  you  are  sick  —  body  and  soul.  Do 
be  just  as  happy  as  you  can,  in  any  way  you  can. 
You  have  found  that  fighting  yourself  does  no  good, 
that  in  the  unequal  contest  you  are  trying  to  crush 
what  each  day  shows  you  is  a  part  of  your  very  soul. 
No!  Shun  everything  that  hurts  you.  Be  good  to 
yourself  always  and  every^vhere.  You  have  n't  any 
too  much  strength.  But  if  you  carry  your  cross,  you 
may  obtain  strength  from  it  for  the  onward  journey. 
So  take  it  in  and  let  it  help  and  soothe  you,  even 
though  you  know  it  to  be  a  dream. 

Such  a  dreadful  thing  has  happened !  A  letter  of 
two  sheets  came  from  Mr.  W.  this  week;  and  oh, 
such  a  letter !  It  just  takes  my  breath  away,  it  hurts 
me  so  to  think  of  it.  Why,  why  is  it  that  I  seem 
doomed  to  the  very  thing  I  would  most  be  delivered 
from  .'*  I  never  imagined  it  in  him,  did  you .'  I  must 
answer  it  to-day,  and  it  does  n't  seem  as  if  I  could. 
It  is  such  a  passionate  letter,  and  I  know  he  must 
be  terribly  in  earnest  to  talk  so.  I  tremble  for  the 
effect  it  will  have  on  him  just  now.  Do  be  kind  to 
him,  if  you  have  any  chance.  And  here  is  Mr.  S. 
walking  home  from  class  with  me  every  evening.  I 
moved,  you  know,  to  get  away  for  a  little  while  from 
worry  of  this  sort.  And  of  course  I  don't  mean  to  say 


70  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

such  an  absurd  thing  as  that  he  is  really  in  danger. 
Only  he  is  too  kind.  But  I  am  getting  suspicious  of 
everybody  who  looks  at  me,  unless  I  have  been  intro- 
duced to  his  wife. 

I  finished  yesterday  just  half  the  weeks  I  have  to 
teach,  and  the  ten  that  are  left  will  pass  too  quickly, 
doubtless,  for  the  work  which  is  to  be  done  in  them ; 
but  not  when  I  think  where  the  end  of  them  will  take 
me.  Once  in  a  while  I  dread  going  back  to  college. 
Not  that  it  is  n't  far  pleasanter  than  teaching.  But 
sometimes  the  world  seems  sick.  I  can't  help  think- 
ing of  what  you  told  me  of  the  secret  societies.  God 
help  us  all!  He  alone  is  able.  Let  us  pray  for  the 
noble  young  men  who  are  going  down  unless  an  arm 
mighty  to  save  is  quickly  thrown  around  them.  So 
S.  has  gone  too !  I  liked  the  boy  so  much.  Perhaps 
it  is  better  for  him.  But  what  a  loss  to  the  class! 
Really  in  a  year  there  won't  be  much  of  a  class  left, 
at  this  rate.  Oh,  if  we  could  only  sit  down  and  talk 
it  all  over) 

Mother,  this  being  off  alone,  so  out  in  the  world, 
is  tiresome;  the  more  so  because  my  life  is  crowded 
with  work  and  care.  But  I  am  succeeding.  There 
was  a  meeting  of  the  Board  this  week,  and  the  Presi- 
dent afterwards  informed  me  that  "  they  were  all 
grateful  to  me  for  what  I  was  doing  for  the  school. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  71 

And  though  from  the  first  I  had  given  them  to  under- 
stand that  I  was  here  only  for  the  year,  tliey  begged 
me  to  reconsider  the  matter ; "  in  short,  telling  me  I 
must  stay.  I  told  him  as  politely  as  I  knew  how  that 
I  could  n't  and  should  n't,  and  they  still  insist.  They 
say  I  know  enough  now  and  can  finish  my  studies 
by  myself.  As  if  they  knew !  Well !  I  hope  they  won't 
be  disappointed  before  the  year  is  out. 


V 

SCHOOI^TEACHING 

When  a  young  person  leaves  college,  where  for 
four  years  he  has  been  supported  while  happily 
pursuing  his  own  ends,  and  goes  forth  into  an  alien 
world  which  demands  as  its  price  for  his  living  that 
he  shall  attend  to  its  needs,  the  change  is  disturbing. 
In  college  the  aims  of  culture  and  enjoyment  are 
dominant;  in  the  world  outside  there  is  the  neces- 
sity of  watching  others'  wants ;  our  own  preferences 
drop  a  good  deal  out  of  sight.  Accordingly  it  is  of- 
ten said  that  a  college  unfits  one  for  practical  life. 
Though  it  gives  the  means  of  becoming  broadly  ser- 
viceable, it  does  not  necessarily  bring  the  desire,  and 
certainly  does  not  form  the  requisite  habits.  What  we 
gain  in  college  is  apt  enough  to  stick  fast  within  us, 
and  not  easily  to  pass  beyond.  Before  we  can  suc- 
ceed in  the  new  and  dutiful  ways  our  aims  need  re- 
adjusting. For  most  persons  there  comes  something 
of  a  jolt  in  turning  from  the  period  of  acquisition 
to  that  of  distribution.  In  Miss  Freeman's  case  this 
was  less  violent  on  account  of  her  early  training  and 
the  austere  conditions  which  attended  her  college 
life.   Yet  even  she  found  the  years  immediately  after 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  73 

leaving  college  severe.  From  1876  to  1881  she  went 
through  much  exhausting  drudgery:  she  was  over- 
worked and  underpaid,  she  was  imperfectly  fed,  she 
had  too  little  fresh  air  and  amusement,  she  was  bur- 
dened with  family  anxieties,  and  was  sent  hither 
and  thither  with  little  power  to  choose  the  place 
where  she  would  be.  The  beginnings  of  professional 
life  make  little  account  of  personal  desires.  The  years 
1876-87,  therefore,  from  graduation  to  her  mar- 
riage, I  group  together  as  a  third  period  of  her  career 
and  call  it  her  time  of  service.  In  her  second  period, 
from  her  entering  Windsor  Academy  to  her  leaving 
the  University  of  Michigan,  she  was  —  though  with 
many  distractions  —  accumulating  knowledge  and 
properly  serving  her  own  ends.  Now,  what  others 
require  becomes  her  chief  care,  and  she  is  mainly 
busied  with  expenditure. 

At  Lake  Geneva,  Wisconsin,  was  a  seminary  for 
girls,  whose  ages  ranged  from  twelve  to  twenty-five. 
Its  head  was  a  college  acquaintance  of  Miss  Free- 
man's, and  two  of  her  classmates  were  engaged  as 
teachers.  She  herself  agreed  to  take  charge  of  the 
Greek  and  Latin  on  a  nominal  salary  of  eight  hun- 
dred dollars.  Part  of  this  was  conditional  on  the 
success  of  the  school;  three  hundred  dollars  was 
charged  to  the  tuition  of  her  sister  Ella,  who,  hav- 
ing just  become  engaged,  now  needed  good  general 
training  rather  than  a  college  course.     The  actual 


74  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

profits  of  the  undertaking  were  therefore  small.  The 
summer  had  to  be  spent  in  preparing  her  sister  and 
herself  for  the  new  work.  In  the  midst  of  it  the 
youngest  sister,  Stella,  fell  seriously  ill,  while  the 
financial  prospects  of  the  family  grew  steadily  darker. 
There  was  a  gloom  upon  her  when  she  went  to  Lake 
Geneva  which  increased  the  hardships  of  the  early 
weeks  there.   She  writes :  — 

"A  month  ago  I  took  the  severest  cold  I  have  had 
for  years.  It  went  to  my  lungs,  and  for  some  days 
made  me  decidedly  sick.  I  am  better  now.  But  one 
does  n't  get  entire  rest  in  teaching  at  a  boarding 
school,  even  when  one  is  well.  I  am  far  from  that. 
You  know  I  did  n't  rest  during  the  summer,  and  I 
have  n't  rested  for  a  good  while.  WTien  I  came  here, 
weary  and  sad,  I  threw  myself  into  my  work;  for  I 
found  many  perplexities  and  difficulties.  So  long  as 
my  time  was  taken  in  working  against  these,  I  did  not 
feel  the  weakness  which  crept  over  me  after  I  began 
to  see  more  '  open  doors  '  about  and  ahead  of  me. 
The  work  itself  is  n't  so  very  hard.  I  ought  to  grow 
strong  in  it.  But  I  am  not  used  to  boarding  school 
life.  Being  '  slave  to  a  bell  and  vassal  to  an  hour ' 
is  irksome  sometimes  when  my  heart  longs  for  other 
scenes  and  the  friends  from  whose  presence  I  have 
gone  away.  My  roommate  is  a  refined,  talented,  and 
pleasant  person  of  thirty;  and  yet  I  would  so  much 
rather  be  alone.  You  ask  if  I  am  happy.   Let  me  be 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  75 

honest  witli  you  to-night.  No,  I  am  not.  But  I  am 
content,  and  that  is  better.  I  am  at  work,  and  before 
me  stretch  high  aims  and  great  tasks,  more  than 
enough  to  fill  the  years  until  I  shall  awake  in  His 
likeness  and  be  satisfied." 

But  these  Avere  not  Miss  Freeman's  usual  moods. 
The  sense  of  human  needs  in  the  school  soon  engaged 
her,  and  a  fair  degree  of  health  returned.  Of  the  way 
in  which  her  ideals  of  teaching  were  taking  shape  a 
good  notion  may  be  had  from  a  letter  written  at  this 
time  to  one  of  her  friends,  who  was  herself  a  teacher : 

"You  ask  how  I  work  among  the  girls  to  gain 
influence.  Let  me  talk  to  you  a  little  about  it.  As 
I  lived  among  these  young  people  day  after  day,  I 
felt  a  want  of  something:  not  intellectual,  or  even 
religious,  culture;  not  a  lack  of  physical  training  or 
that  acquaintance  with  social  life  which  can  be  so 
charming  in  a  true  woman ;  but  a  something  I  must 
call  heart  culture,  in  lack  of  a  better  name.  Every 
one  was  kind,  but  cold.  There  was  no  intentional 
freezing,  but  an  absence  of  the  sunshine  which  melts 
its  own  way.  Looking  on  and  into  them,  I  said,  I 
will  try  to  be  a  friend  to  them  all,  and  put  all  that  is 
truest  and  sweetest,  sunniest  and  strongest  that  I  can 
gather  into  their  lives.  While  I  teach  them  solid 
knowledge,  and  give  them  real  school  drill  as  faith- 
fully as  I  may,  I  will  give,  too,  all  that  the  years  have 
brought  to  my  own  soul.   God  help  me  to  give  what 


76  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

He  gave  —  myself  —  and  make  that  self  worth  some- 
thing to  somebody;  teach  me  to  love  all  as  He  has 
loved,  for  the  sake  of  the  infinite  possibilities  locked 
up  in  every  human  soul.  Consecrating  myself  to  the 
future  of  these  girls,  to  them  as  women,  I  have  tried 
in  this  life  among  them  to  make  them  feel  that  they 
can  always  come  to  me  in  happy  and  in  sad  times, 
in  restless  moments,  or  homesick  and  tired  hours. 
Whenever  they  want  help  or  comfort,  my  door  and 
heart  shall  be  open.  Not  that  I  have  said  this.  I 
have  just  felt  it,  and  I  think  they  feel  it  too.  We 
kneel  together  every  evening,  and  every  morning  at 
chapel  service  their  faces  look  up  into  mine.  Keeping 
my  eyes  open  for  chances,  I  find  the  rest  takes  care 
of  itself  —  a  word,  a  look  even,  the  touch  of  a  hand ; 
and  by  and  by,  when  the  time  comes,  something  more. 
I  have  to  work  very  differently  here  from  what  was 
possible  in  Ann  Arbor.  A  university  town  has  food 
which  you  can't  give  boarding-school  girls,  nor  men 
and  women  of  still  less  culture ;  and  these  make  up 
the  majority  of  a  town  like  this,  though  we  have 
some  families  as  cultivated  and  wealthy  as  can  be 
found  anywhere.  But  Christianity  meets  the  wants 
of  every  heart ;  only  it  takes  experience,  knowledge 
of  and  insight  into  human  nature  —  but  far  more 
than  anything  else,  the  spirit  of  Christ  himself  —  in 
order  to  know  when  and  how  to  speak.  Why,  what 
is  it  to  be  a  Christian,  a  Christ-follower,  unless  it 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  7-3 

is  going  about  doing  good  ?  We  ought  to  love  every- 
body and  make  everybody  love  us.  Then  everything 
else  is  easy." 

Such  a  teacher  does  not  fail.  Miss  Freeman  was 
pressed  to  continue  another  year.  But  the  atmosphere 
of  a  private  school  was  never  quite  congenial  to  her. 
Its  little  proprieties,  its  small  interests,  its  narrow 
intellectual  horizon,  were  matters  distasteful  to  her 
free  soul,  and  yet  she  was  powerless  to  change  them. 
If  she  were  to  teach  the  following  year,  she  preferred 
to  do  so  in  a  public  school,  where  there  would  be  both 
boys  and  girls.  But  dreams  of  wider  scope  were  run- 
ning in  her  head.  Throughout  her  college  course  she 
had  hoped  for  a  period  of  graduate  study;  and  she 
felt  this  especially  important  in  view  of  the  interrup- 
tion of  her  junior  year.  She  longed  to  repair  that 
loss,  as  well  as  the  damage  done  by  the  crowded 
freshman  time.  In  the  early  seventies,  too,  the  degree 
of  Doctor  of  Philosophy  was  just  beginning  to  assert 
its  haughty  claims,  and  was  felt  doubly  desirable  by 
those  who  had  little  opportunity  for  undergraduate 
electives.  History  was  her  favorite  study.  It  dealt 
with  persons.  Her  imagination  illuminated  it  and 
she  followed  with  enthusiasm  its  vast  moral  evolu- 
tions. Then,  too,  always  and  everywhere  she  loved 
a  fact.  Foreseeing  that  most  of  her  solid  years  must 
be  given  to  teaching,  she  seems  to  have  formed  some 
project  of  devoting  summer  vacations,  and  later  per- 


78  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

haps  a  single  entire  year,  to  advanced  study.  Imme- 
Jiatcly  on  leaving  Lake  Geneva  she  accordingly 
began  work  on  an  historical  subject  at  Ann  Arbor. 
I  find  the  following  memorandum  in  her  hand : 
"  June-Sept.,  1877.  Spent  the  summer  in  Ann  Arbor 
studying  for  a  higher  degree.  Did  not  return  for  ex- 
aminations the  following  year  on  account  of  Stella's 
illness.  Was  offered  an  instructorship  in  mathemat- 
ics at  Wellesley  College,  but  declined."  The  plan  of 
advanced  study  w^as  never  abandoned.  From  time 
to  time,  as  other  toils  permitted,  it  was  resumed; 
and  though  her  thesis  was  never  completed,  in  1882 
the  university  conferred  on  her  the  degree  of  Ph.D. 

As  the  official  head  of  education  in  that  state,  the 
University  of  Michigan  interests  itself  in  the  welfare 
of  all  its  high  schools.  One  of  these  at  Saginaw,  in 
Northern  Michigan,  had  fallen  into  decay.  Its  prin- 
cipal, a  man  of  loveable  character,  was  incapable  of 
keeping  order.  The  scholarship  of  the  school  had 
therefore  for  some  time  been  declining  until,  though 
it  still  had  several  hundred  pupils,  it  was  of  diminish- 
ing value  to  the  university  and  the  town.  The  super- 
intendent of  schools  consulted  President  Angell.  He 
advised  that  the  kindly  priucipal  be  nominally 
retained,  but  that  Miss  Freeman  be  appointed  pre- 
ceptress and  left  to  smooth  out  the  difficulties  of  the 
situation  in  whatever  way  her  tact  could  devise. 
Thither  she  accordingly  went  in  September,  1877; 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  79 

and  a  month  later,  on  the  resignation  of  another 
teacher,  she  secured  a  position  for  her  sister  Ella  as 
the  head  of  a  neighboring  grammar  school.  The 
contest  for  authority  in  her  own  school  was  at  first 
sharp.  The  leader  of  the  organized  turbulence  was 
a  young  man  of  about  her  own  years ;  for  she  was  only 
twenty-two,  slight,  and  in  feeble  health.  Within  a 
week  she  had  turned  him  out  of  school  and  did  not 
readmit  him  until  he  had  made  public  apology. 
Within  two  months  all  friction  had  disappeared,  the 
standard  of  scholarship  was  raised,  teachers  and 
pupils  were  alike  friendly.  She  had  won  regard  from 
the  people  of  Saginaw,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  a 
hundred  dollars  of  additional  salary  was  gratuitously 
voted  her.  I  have  talked  with  pupils  of  that  school, 
who  cannot  comprehend  how  anjihing  less  than 
magic  could  in  a  few  weeks  have  changed  so  rude 
a  company  as  themselves  into  sweet-natured  and 
diligent  students. 

But  this  time  of  sunny  peacemaking  was  a  season 
of  anguish  for  herself.  The  health  of  her  sister  in 
New  York  still  failed.  Stella,  the  youngest  of  the 
family,  was  regarded  by  all  as  its  choicest  member. 
Her  starry  beauty  was  remarked  everywhere.  She 
wrote  delightfully  in  prose  and  verse,  was  a  capital 
story-teller,  witty,  studious,  high-minded,  less  stormy 
in  temper  than  Alice,  and  up  to  her  fifteenth  year 
apparently   in   vigorous   health.    Then  the  family 


80  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

weakness  showed  itself.  An  attack  of  fever  settled 
in  her  lungs  and  could  not  be  dislodged.  Alice  nursed 
her  through  the  first  summer  vacation  after  she  left 
college,  and  expected  the  trouble  to  disappear.  It 
did  not,  however;  consumption  declared  itself,  and 
for  two  years  fears  and  hopes  chased  one  another 
perplexingly.  In  the  autumn  of  1877  doctors  pro- 
nounced the  illness  dangerous,  and  began  to  talk  of 
a  change  of  climate.  All  these  distresses,  too,  were 
complicated  with  financial  troubles.  The  lumber  en- 
tanglement, which  I  have  mentioned  before  as  drag- 
ging the  family  down,  had  gone  from  bad  to  worse, 
until  Dr.  Freeman  believed  he  could  best  protect  his 
creditors  by  giving  up  to  them  his  home  and  all  his 
property.  This  occurred  in  November,  1877,  just  as 
Alice  and  Ella  had  begun  their  teaching  in  Saginaw. 
The  two  girls  speedily  set  about  plans  of  relief. 
Their  joint  salaries  amounted  to  eleven  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  there  were  hopes  of  increasing  this  a  little 
by  private  pupils.  They  hired  and  furnished  a  house, 
and  at  Christmas  had  the  entire  family  settled  in 
Saginaw.  The  expenses  of  a  loved  invalid  are  always 
heavy,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  meet  them  in  the  midst 
of  school  problems.  But  the  father  soon  began  prac- 
tice as  a  physician,  the  mother  took  a  teacher  or  two 
to  board,  and  the  son  found  a  place  in  a  store.  All 
had  brave  hearts.  Throughout  the  winter  the  family 
was  happy  in  one  another  and  in  a  common  care. 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  81 

By  summer  Stella  was  so  much  revived  that  Ella  was 
able  to  marry,  and  the  brother  to  enter  the  Medical 
School  of  the  University  of  Michigan.  But  as  the 
second  winter  approached,  the  fair  prospects  dark- 
ened; and  Alice,  who  had  been  called  to  Wellesley 
again  in  December,  1878,  —  this  time  in  Greek,  — • 
felt  that  she  must  once  more  decline.  The  beautiful 
sufferer  lingered  till  Spring,  but  died  on  June  20, 1879, 
at  the  age  of  eighteen.  No  other  grief  of  Mrs. 
Palmer's  life  equalled  this.  Stella  was  five  years 
younger  than  she  and  had  been  much  in  her  charge. 
She  loved  her  as  her  own  child  and  also  as  one 
whom  she  thought  superior  to  herself.  She  dreamed 
of  one  day  sending  her  to  college,  and  of  their  becom- 
ing ultimately  associated  in  some  common  work. 
No  death  had  hitherto  come  near  her,  and  this  one 
made  all  which  subsequently  came  seem  slight.  As 
she  herself  lay  dying,  I  heard  her  murmur  Stella's 
name. 

It  was  well  to  leave  Saginaw  now.  A  change  of 
surroundings  was  equally  necessary  for  health  and 
for  work.  Dr.  Freeman's  practice,  too,  was  increas- 
ing, and  the  family  was  once  more  on  its  feet.  Her 
brother  had  been  sent  to  college ;  her  surviving  sister 
was  married  and  gone  to  her  own  home.  On  herself 
a  third  call  to  Wellesley  was  pressed,  a  call  of  a 
higher  kind  than  before.  She  had  been  in  corre- 
spondence about  it  for  several  months,  putting  the 


82  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

proposal  aside  at  first  because  she  would  not  leave 

her  sister.  By  that  sister's  death  she  was  sorrowfully 

set  free.    In  July,  1879,  when  she  was  twenty-four, 

she  became  the  head  of  the  department  of  history  at 

Wellesley  College. 

I  suppose  I  must  give  a  few  poignant  glimpses  into 

the  two  years'  life  in  Saginaw,  years  which  began 

in  gladness  and  ran  into  continually  deeper  tragedy. 

Without   them   Miss   Freeman   cannot   be   known. 

She  was  a  hardened  optimist,  and  because  of  her 

cheerful    courage    she    appeared    to    many    like    a 

favorite  of  fortune  on  whom  good  things  regularly 

fell.    Fortunate  indeed  she  was,  but  chiefly  in  her 

power  of  discovering  a  soul  of  good  in  things  evil. 

Hope  in  her  view  is  — 

The  paramount  duty  that  Heaven  lays 
For  its  own  honor  on  man's  suffering  heart. 

Yet  I  must  let  it  be  seen  that  she  had  her  full  share 
of  hardships  and  was  abundantly  acquainted  with 
grief.  Moods  of  despondency  came  to  her  as  truly 
as  to  others,  and  she  did  not  hesitate  to  express  them. 
I  have  purposely  included  several  such  utterances 
among  her  letters.  But  she  was  not  absorbed  or 
misled  by  them.  She  went  straight  on.  General 
Grant  remarks,  in  his  "  Memoirs,"  that  all  soldiers 
are  frightened  about  equally  on  going  into  battle, 
but  that  there  is  a  mighty  difference  in  the  way  they 
behave  under  fear.    She  had  a  sensitive  heart  and 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  83 

to  feel  her  humanity  we  must  see  it  quiver.  But  she 
put  her  mind  elsewhere  than  in  her  moods,  and 
these  soon  took  their  suitable  place.  To  duty  she 
gave  herself  gladly,  counting  it  the  voice  of  a  friend, 
and  in  its  exhilarating  companionship  she  found  a 
way  through  even  physical  ills.  Her  "radiance" 
was  therefore  no  product  of  ignorance,  but  of  a 
deeper  insight  into  things  human  and  divine.  She 
often  quoted  some  lines  of  Emerson's  which  well 
describe  her  own  mode  of  meeting  good  and  ill; 
only  she  understood  them  as  expressing  no  mere 
Stoicism  but  the  Christian's  joyous  acceptance  of  a 
complex  and  hallowed  world :  — 

Let  me  go  where'er  I  will, 

I  hear  a  sky-born  music  still. 

It  sounds  from  all  things  old. 

It  sounds  from  all  things  young ; 

From  all  that 's  fair,  from  all  that 's  foul, 

Peals  out  a  cheerful  song. 

It  is  not  only  in  the  rose, 

It  is  not  only  in  the  bird, 

Not  only  where  the  rainbow  glows, 

Nor  in  the  song  of  woman  heard  ; 

But  in  the  darkest,  meanest  things, 

There  alway,  alway,  something  sings- 

LETTERS 

Across  the  table  sits  my  queenly  sister,  reading  a 
letter  with  flushing  cheeks.  She  came  a  week  ago 
to  take  a  position  which  the  superintftn<ient  obtained 


Si  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

for  her  in  a  grammar  school.  Is  n't  everybody  kind 
to  me  ?  And  we  have  had  such  talks  about  those  at 
home  whom  I  have  n't  seen  in  so  long.  Our  room  is 
bright  and  cozy,  and  we  hope  to  have  a  happy  year. 
Just  now  my  hands  are  so  full  of  monthly  examina- 
tions and  reports  that  my  usual  labors  in  mathematics 
and  the  sciences  seem  too  trivial  to  mention. 

How  sunny  and  restful  your  letter  sounds  to-day, 
when  I  am  so  tired.  Friday  night  my  school  closes 
for  two  weeks.  That  evening  my  father,  mother, 
and  Stella  arrive.  The  week  after,  the  State  Teachers' 
Association  meets  here  for  three  days.  During  those 
days  and  in  the  mean  time  I  shall  be  driven  with 
work,  as  I  have  five  classes  which  will  be  examined 
for  the  benefit  of  these  visitors.  Then  in  the  vacation 
I  must  get  my  family  settled.  I  have  already  rented 
a  house,  but  probably  it  will  be  no  light  matter  to 
put  it  in  order  for  the  winter. 

To  you  I  don't  mind  explaining  what  would  other- 
wise seem  a  little  mysterious  in  our  arrangements. 
Two  months  ago  Papa  made  an  assignment  of  every- 
thing to  his  creditors.  When  this  business  was  over, 
it  seemed  best  that  there  should  be  an  immediate 
change.  One  of  Papa's  lungs  has  failed,  and  Stella 
is  no  better.  So  I  am  to  have  them  here  with  me. 
Fred  will  come  soon.  I  am  very  anxious  that  he 
should  enter  the  Medical  School  next  fall.    And 


SCHOOI^TEACHING  85 

Ella  must  have  next  year  for  study  and  rest,  as  she 
{vill  undoubtedly  be  married  the  year  after. 

Forgive  me,  then,  for  having  written  so  little.  I 
have  been  in  constant  communication  with  the 
assignee  and  have  had  much  to  do  for  Ella.  My 
duties,  too,  at  the  school  are  so  numerous  that  I  go 
every  morning  at  eight  o'clock  and  for  the  last  two 
weeks  have  remained  until  dark.  It  has  been  damp, 
and  I  have  not  felt  very  well.  But  won't  it  be  pleasant 
for  us  to  be  together  again  at  Christmas  ?  The  first 
time  I  have  seen  the  family  in  the  winter  since  1871. 
Please  say  nothing  about  these  perplexities  of  mine. 
I  don't  want  anybody  to  think  a  troubled  thought 
of  me.  I  really  don't  need  such  thoughts.  I  can  see 
a  little  way  ahead  now,  and  am  quite  willing  to  trust 
and  work. 

The  spring-time  is  without  and  within.  It  has 
come  early  this  year,  and  how  beautiful !  Yesterday 
Ella  and  Stella  and  I  went  out  walking  as  the  sun 
was  rising.  The  air  seems  like  April's,  and  the  sun- 
shine like  June's,  while  here  and  there  a  bird  sings 
cheerily  from  branches  just  swelling  and  reddening. 
We  w^alked  about  three  miles,  and  came  home 
perfectly  ravenous. 

You  see  by  this  how  much  better  Stella  is.  Since 
coming  here  she  has  greatly  improved,  indeed  is 
better  now  than  she  has  been  since  last  summer. 


86  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Next  term  she  is  going  to  study,  if  she  continues  so 
strong.  She  plans  to  go  to  the  school  each  morning 
for  practice  in  writing.  I  am  still  doubtful  about  it. 
But  she  is  so  restless,  she  must  try  at  any  rate.  This 
morning  we  all  went  to  church  together,  for  the  first 
time  in  so  long  that  it  seems  like  going  away  back 
or  away  onward,  I  hardly  know  which. 

It  is  only  a  fortnight  since  our  wedding  and  you 
are  looking  forward  to  your  own.  Naturally  I  have 
been  thinking  a  good  deal  about  the  two.  I  wish  we 
could  have  the  whole  afternoon  for  a  talk.  But  do 
keep  happy,  and  grow  wise  in  keeping  another  happy. 
Be  unselfish,  dear,  and  learn  to  control  the  woman's 
restless  hunger.  Let  it  only  make  you  more  s}Tnpa- 
thetic  and  strong.  Sympathy  is  the  great  want  of 
the  human  heart,  man's  heart  as  well  as  woman's. 
You  must  teach  him  how  to  sympathize  in  the  broad 
sense  with  you,  and  to  let  you  sympathize  with  him, 
in  little  as  well  as  great  things.  Then  you  will  feel 
always  that  you  are  bound  up  together,  that  every- 
thing you  each  do  is  full  of  the  other.  That,  I  think, 
must  be  being  married ;  and  that,  you  know,  is  n't 
the  work  of  an  hour,  or  a  year.  Then,  no  matter  what 
comes,  you  can  never  be  really  separated.  Shake- 
speare understood  this  when  he  wrote  his  sonnets. 

All  this  week  my  thoughts  have  been  following 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  87 

you,  this  busy  week  of  organizing  our  high  school. 
I  want  you  here,  these  white  still  nights.  Last  night 
I  sat  till  late,  looking  out  into  the  beauty  of  the 
moonlight  and  thinking  of  friends.  I  was  going  over 
the  years  that  are  past  and  wondered  why  so  many 
things,  buried  long  ago  with  the  dead  years,  rise  up 
and  sit  down  beside  me  in  the  silence.  There  are 
days  when  every  air  blows  from  a  distance.  This 
house  is  haunted  nowadays.  Sometimes  I  long  for 
one  of  those  moments  that  are  gone  more  than  for  all 
that  the  days  to  come  hold  in  their  close-shut  hands. 

I  am  hungry  to  hear  from  you.  I  seem  so  shut-in 
this  year.  Home  and  school  life  keep  me  so  occupied 
that  I  have  hardly  been  able  to  give  a  moment  to 
anjihing  outside,  except  when  too  tired  to  do  any- 
thing but  think.  These  times  have  come  oftener  than 
they  used  to.  Just  now  I  am  oppressed  with  the 
passing  days.  Do  you  know,  lately  I  have  come  to 
want  to  paint  flowers  and  all  sorts  of  lovely  things, 
to  sketch  faces  that  are  pleasant  to  me.  You  have 
genius  for  this.  I  should  have  to  learn.  Had  I  better 
try  ?  I  do  so  want  to  be  putting  bright  bits  of  beauty 
into  and  out  of  my  life.  Stella  is  having  a  high  fever 
this  afternoon.   I  must  go  to  her. 

Sometimes  in  these  days  it  seems  as  if  the  solid 
earth  were  giving  way  under  my  feet,  as  if  all  my 


88  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

present  and  future  were  slipping  out  of  my  control. 
And  then  I  turn  instinctively  to  my  past.  I  suppose 
that  is  what  God  gives  us  a  past  for,  to  stand  on.  We 
are  sure  now  that  we  can  keep  Stella  only  a  little 
while.  The  fight  has  been  so  long  we  hardly  know 
how  to  give  it  up.  But  we  cannot  expect  her  to  endure 
through  the  summer.  She  grows  whiter  and  weaker 
every  day,  suffering  intensely.  Our  light  is  dying 
out.  Pray  the  good  God  to  lighten  and  warm  this 
dark  home,  where  we  watch  her  going  farther  away 
from  our  helpless  help. 

These  days  are  solemnly  sweet.  I  make  no  plans 
in  them.  Recently  I  have  written  Mr.  Durant  about 
the  state  of  things  here,  but  have  not  had  his  reply. 
You  see  it  is  extremely  doubtful  whether  I  go  to 
Wellesley.  Nothing  is  clear  before  me  now.  I  am 
very  tired.  The  year  has  worn  upon  me,  in  school 
and  at  home.  But  I  think  I  shall  come  through  with- 
out breaking  down.  If  I  do  go  to  Wellesley,  I  have 
promised  Mr.  Durant  to  go  at  the  earliest  moment. 
He  wants  me  to  do  some  studying  there,  and  has 
been  urging  me  to  resign  here.  The  position  certainly 
requires  much  preparation,  and  I  must  consult  about 
methods  and  books. 

School  ended  last  week;  and  though  my  work  is 
not  quite  finished,  vacation  is  begun.  I  am  not  alto- 


SCHOOL-TEACHING  89 

gether  well  —  nothing  serious,  only  too  tired  to  sleep, 
and  sometimes  too  heartsick  to  want  to  rest.  I  am 
going  to  leave  Saginaw  just  as  soon  as  I  can  get 
ready,  next  week  I  think.  Before  going  to  Wellesley 
I  shall  spend  a  few  days  in  Windsor.  I  have  n't  been 
there  in  three  years,  and  must  stay  a  little  with  those 
who  knew  us  when  we  were  children.  It  will  do  me 
good  to  rest  in  the  old  places  among  the  hills.  But 
I  go  soon  to  Wellesley,  because  I  must  see  what  books 
are  in  the  library  there.  I  have  to  arrange  my  topics 
and  make  my  references,  as  the  classes  use  no  text- 
books. Forgive  me  for  not  writing  you  more.  The 
silence  of  death  has  fallen  upon  my  life.  It  is  a  very 
quiet  time  within,  but  O  Lucy,  Lucy!  —  Well  dear, 
good-by.  Send  me  a  letter  out  of  your  beautiful  life 
as  soon  as  you  can.  Kiss  me,  Lucy,  and  hold  me 
close  to  keep  my  heart  from  breaking. 


VI 

TEACfflNG  AT  WELLESLEY 

Wellesley  College,  to  which  Miss  Freeman 
went  in  1879,  and  with  which  she  was  connected  for 
the  next  eight  years,  was  opened  in  1875  by  Henry 
Fowle  Durant.  He  had  graduated  at  Harvard  Col- 
lege in  1841,  entered  the  law  in  Boston,  and  soon 
won  eminence  and  a  fortune  by  his  masterly  conduct 
of  difficult  cases  in  the  courts.  Slight  in  stature  and 
imperious  in  will,  he  took  pleasure  in  contest  and 
easily  made  strong  friends  and  strong  enemies. 
There  was  about  him  great  personal  charm.  He  had 
read  much,  had  an  excellent  library,  wrote  with 
refinement  in  prose  and  verse,  and  was  something 
of  a  connoisseur  in  the  arts.  Near  the  close  of  his 
brilliant  and  contentious  life  he  lost  a  son  of  remark- 
able promise.  The  shock  turned  his  attention  to 
religious  matters.  Into  these  he  threw  himself  with 
his  customary  ardor,  retiring  from  the  law.  To  rid 
himself  of  self-seeking  and  to  make  his  property  and 
his  remaining  years  a  benefit  to  his  fellow  men  became 
his  passion.  These  purposes  were  warmly  seconded 
by  his  wife.  It  was  their  belief  that  a  community 
could  be  helped  most  by  education,  and  they  deter- 


'i  g 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY  91 

mined  to  express  their  affection  for  their  son  by 
founding  a  college.  On  examining  the  provision  for 
education  already  made  in  our  Eastern  States,  they 
concluded  that  women  were  in  greater  need  than  men. 
Vassar  had  just  been  opened  and  was  the  only  con- 
siderable college  for  girls,  though  of  colleges  from 
which  women  were  excluded  New  England  had  more 
than  a  dozen.  By  enlarging  the  opportunities  for 
women  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Durant  thought  they  could 
best  accomplish  their  generous  purpose.  Their  home 
was  at  Wellesley,  fifteen  miles  west  of  Boston,  where 
they  had  an  estate  of  more  than  three  hundred  acres, 
made  up  of  plains,  hills,  woods,  and  the  shores  of 
Lake  Waban.  This  they  now  deeded  to  trustees  as 
the  site  of  the  new  college,  —  Mr.  Durant  directing, 
however,  that  neither  it  nor  any  of  its  buildings 
should  be  called  by  his  name,  nor  should  any  portrait 
of  himself  be  hung  within  its  walls. 

It  will  be  seen  that  there  was  religious  ardor  in  the 
founding  of  Wellesley,  and  a  spirit  of  sacrifice,  quali- 
ties without  wliich  few  endowments  undertaken  for 
the  public  good  prove  permanently  strong.  At  the 
beginning  the  fervor  of  a  young  convert  may  have 
led  Mr.  Durant  to  give  undue  prominence  to  the 
conscious  religious  motive;  but  he  kept  all  doors 
open  for  the  extensive  changes  which  time  has  proved 
wise,  and  in  his  holiest  injunctions  there  w^as  great 
sagacity.    The  college  was  to  be  Christian,  but  no 


92  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

sect  was  to  have  a  majority  of  its  trustees.  All  its 
officials  were  to  be  devout  persons,  but  not  bound 
by  any  form  of  subscription.  With  clear  under- 
standing of  the  native  tendencies  of  womanhood,  the 
motto,  "  Not  to  be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister  " 
was  selected  for  the  college  seal.  Morning  and  even- 
ing there  were  twenty-minute  periods  of  "  Silent 
Time,"  when  each  girl  must  be  alone  in  her  room,  and 
devotions  would  be  natural,  though  not  enforced.  Re- 
quired prayers  twice  a  day  were  led  by  the  teachers, 
Sunday  services  by  invited  ministers,  and  there  were 
daily  Bible  classes.  From  among  the  professors 
advisers  were  appointed  for  each  class,  who  kept 
regular  office  hours  and  were  accessible  for  consulta- 
tion on  any  subject.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
in  those  days  parents  were  little  inclined  to  separate 
their  daughters  from  family  influence,  and  that  many 
features  of  the  home  had  to  be  provided  if  girls  were 
to  be  drawn  to  the  higher  education. 

It  is  to  Mr.  Durant's  credit  that  at  a  time  when 
such  things  were  less  regarded  than  at  present  he  laid 
great  stress  on  the  beauty  of  surroundings,  spending 
much  on  his  grounds,  on  paintings  and  photographs, 
on  music,  on  whatever  might  ennoble  the  young 
through  unconscious  influence.  And  while  he  very 
properly  sought  to  develop  Christian  character  in  his 
college,  it  was  not  his  purpose  to  substitute  this  for 
intellectual  discipline.    Determined  that  the  stand- 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY  93 

ard  of  scholarship  should  ultimately  be  the  highest, 
he  attached  little  weight  to  text-books,  made  gener- 
ous provision  for  laboratories  and  library,  and 
favored  methods  of  teaching  which  were  quite  in 
advance  of  his  time.  Of  course  such  purposes  could 
not  be  realized  at  once.  In  every  beginning  there  is 
chaos.  He  was  himself  but  slenderly  acquainted  with 
educational  matters,  and  there  were  few  highly 
trained  women  to  form  his  faculty.  Women  he  pre- 
ferred as  professors,  because  hitherto  they  had  not 
been  allowed  to  teach  in  colleges;  and  girls  were 
little  likely  to  become  students  if  told  that  there  was 
something  in  their  sex  which  debarred  them  from 
high  scientific  standing. 

It  was  to  a  college  thus  nobly  conceived  that  Alice 
Freeman  came,  a  college  for  which  all  her  previous 
training  had  prepared  her  and  which  was  planned 
to  embody  most  of  her  own  ideals.  Yet  perhaps  it  is 
not  unfair  to  say  that,  while  Mr.  Durant  was  its 
founder,  she  in  her  brief  term  was  its  builder.  The 
ideas  were  his;  but  they  were  hers  too,  and  they 
waited  for  her  to  disclose  the  modes  of  so  applying 
them  as  to  give  them  power  over  the  future.  Had  the 
aim  of  the  college  been  simply  scholastic,  she  might 
have  been  stifled.  Had  it  been  careless  of  scholar- 
ship, she  would  not  have  remained.  But  seeking  as 
it  did  to  fashion  beautiful  women,  she  identified  her- 
self with  it  enthusiastically,  in  herself  embodied  its 


94  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

type,  and  by  degrees  constructed  a  Wellesley  spirit 
in  which  helpfulness,  modesty,  intelligence,  and 
grace  are  recognized  ingredients. 

The  attention  of  Mr.  Durant  was  first  drawn  to  her 
by  President  Angell.  Of  the  circumstances  he  gives 
the  following  account,  not  knowing  apparently  how 
long  the  negotiations  were  in  progress,  and  probably 
fixing  the  date  a  year  later  than  it  really  was :  — 

"When  Mr.  Durant  founded  Wellesley  College 
so  few  women  had  received  college  education  that  he 
experienced  some  difficulty  in  finding  suitable  candi- 
dates for  the  professorial  chairs.  On  my  recom- 
mendation he  appointed  three  or  four  Michigan 
graduates,  who  proved  so  satisfactory  that  he  wrote 
to  me  to  inform  him  at  any  time  when  we  graduated 
such  a  woman  as  I  thought  he  ought  to  appoint.  It 
so  happened  that  I  had  occasion,  I  think  in  the  year 
1879,  to  visit  the  high  school  in  East  Saginaw,  of 
which  Miss  Freeman  was  then  principal.  I  attended 
a  class  in  English  Literature  which  she  was  teaching. 
The  class  was  composed  of  boys  of  from  fifteen  to 
eighteen  years  of  age,  in  whom  one  would  perhaps 
hardly  expect  much  enthusiasm  for  the  great  masters 
of  English  literature.  But  it  was  soon  apparent  that 
she  had  those  boys,  as  she  always  had  her  classes, 
completely  under  her  control  and  largely  filled  with 
her  own  enthusiasm.  They  showed  that  at  tlieir 
homes  they  had  been  carefully  and  lovingly  reading 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY  95 

some  of  the  great  masterpieces  and  were  ready  to 
discuss  them  with  intelhgence  and  zest.  I  have  never 
witnessed  finer  work  of  the  kind  with  a  class  of  that 
sort.  When  I  returned  home,  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Durant 
that  he  must  appoint  the  woman  whose  remarkable 
work  I  had  been  witnessing,  that  he  could  not  afford 
to  let  her  slip  out  of  his  hand.  ^Miether  my  letter  led 
to  his  decision  to  call  her  to  Wellesley  I  do  not  know. 
But  he  did  call  her,  and  she  went.  The  rest  is  matter 
of  history." 

Of  her  success  as  a  teacher  it  is  hardly  necessary 
to  speak.  The  interest  which  she  aroused  in  history 
is  well  known.  She  gave  it  a  freshness  and  vitality 
which  have  become  traditional  at  Wellesley,  and  so 
organized  her  department  that  it  has  remained  one 
of  the  most  influential  in  the  college.  But  where  the 
time  was  found  for  study  and  planning  I  cannot  dis- 
cover. She  must  have  lived  at  a  killing  pace.  From 
her  note-books  I  find  that  her  regular  work  con- 
sisted of  fifteen  hours  a  week  of  history,  a  daily  Bible 
class,  charge  of  a  portion  of  the  domestic  work, 
ofiice  hours  each  day  as  adviser  to  the  senior  class, 
and  the  oversight  of  her  assistant  in  history.  To  this 
she  added  once  a  week  throughout  the  winter  a  pub- 
lic lecture  on  some  historical  subject.  All  this  work, 
too,  was  carried  on  in  the  grief  and  bodily  weakness 
caused  by  her  sister's  death.  In  the  same  note-books 
I  find  the  following  fragmentary  entries :  — 


96  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

"  Jan.  8.  Faculty  meeting  after  Chapel.  A  lovely 
day.  I  walked  to  the  village  and  was  out  of  doors  an 
hour.  Wrote  letters  and  corrected  examination 
papers.  Spent  an  hour  or  more  over  new  books  on 
the  Bible.  It's  so  hard  to  do  neglected  work!  — 
Jan.  10.  Enthusiastic  sections  this  morning,  and  his- 
tory classes  this  afternoon  unusually  good.  Fanny  W. 
went  to  French  table  and  Mary  P.  took  her  place  at 
mine.  I  am  going  to  have  the  girls  change  their  seats 
once  a  week.  Read  German  with  my  reading  circle. 
—  Jan.  13.  Everything  has  gone  wrong  to-day.  My 
Roman  history  did  not  do  well  this  morning.  Worked 
in  the  Library  on  references.  Could  not  get  exercise, 
but  had  a  little  sleep  this  afternoon.  Must  improve 
at  once  in  health  and  work.  —  Jan.  19.  A  beautiful 
day,  but  full  of  disappointments  and  downright 
badness.  When  shall  I  conquer  my  besetting  sins.^ 
Wasted  the  evening  with  Emily,  Marion,  Helen,  and 
Jane." 

Evidently  too  much  work  had  been  assigned  her, 
an  error  perhaps  inevitable  in  the  early  years  of  a 
college.  Mr.  Durant's  fortune  was  limited,  while  the 
demands  upon  it  were  not.  Out  of  his  own  pocket 
he  met  whatever  bills  were  in  excess  of  the  income 
from  tuition,  and  this  was  fixed  at  a  low  figure.  For 
many  years,  until  other  donors  could  be  found,  there 
was  hard  work  and  small  pay.  Then  too  the  practice 
of  attending  not  only  to  the  studies  of  students,  but 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY  97 

also  to  their  character  and  manners  is,  as  the  Eng- 
lish universities  have  learned,  a  time-taking  business. 
An  enormous  amount  of  Miss  Freeman's  time  was 
spent  in  interviews  with  girls,  interviews  often  of 
lifelong  benefit  to  the  girl  herself  and  certainly  the 
most  efficient  means  of  creating  an  understanding 
of  what  the  college  should  be ;  but  more  than  anything 
else  these  ate  up  her  time  and  strength.  We  now 
know  that  not  much  administrative  work  can  safely 
be  put  on  a  teacher.  But  this  was  not  so  well  under- 
stood at  that  time,  and  it  is  not  strange  that  one  who 
had  aptitudes  in  both  directions  should  have  been 
overstrained. 

In  its  initial  steps  an  undertaking  usually  requires 
a  single  strong  hand.  Mr.  Durant  was  naturally 
autocratic,  and  during  the  few  years  of  his  life  he 
ruled  Wellesley  absolutely,  within  and  without.  He 
had,  it  is  true,  appointed  Miss  Ada  L.  Howard  pres- 
ident; but  her  duties  as  an  executive  officer  were 
rather  nominal  than  real ;  neither  his  disposition,  her 
health,  nor  her  previous  training  allowing  her  much 
power.  Even  the  Board  of  Trustees  exercised  little 
real  control.  Mr.  Durant  held  all  the  authority,  and 
his  keen  eye  early  discovered  the  force  of  Miss 
Freeman.  In  her  first  year  he  said  to  one  of  the 
trustees,  "  You  see  that  little  dark-eyed  girl  ?  She 
will  be  the  next  president  of  Wellesley."  Though 
frequently  they  did  not  agree,  her  independence  did 


98  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

not  alienate  him,  but  appeared  to  make  him  trust 
her  the  more.  He  loved  the  strong.  Often  he  sought 
her  out,  talked  with  her  on  historical  and  literary 
matters,  explored  her  ideas  of  teaching,  and  bore 
from  her  opposition  which  others  feared  to  give. 
The  prophecy  of  her  future  rise  which  I  have  just 
quoted  was  made  shortly  after  the  following  clash. 

Mr.  Durant  had  called  her  attention  to  a  member 
of  the  senior  class  as  one  "who  was  not  a  Chris- 
tian," and  directed  Miss  Freeman  to  go  and  talk  with 
her  "  about  her  soul."  He  was  a  man  already  past 
fifty,  accustomed  to  be  obeyed,  and  she  a  girl  of 
twenty-four;  but  she  flatly  refused.  He  demanded 
her  reasons.  She  explained  how  disrespectful  such 
direct  assaults  on  one's  personality  are,  and  how 
generally  ineffective.  She  said  that  to  do  such  a 
thing  would  be  contrary  to  her  whole  mode  of  inter- 
course with  students  and  might  well  shake  their  con- 
fidence in  her.  In  short,  she  would  not  do  it.  He  in- 
sisted, and  for  a  time  she  feared  the  resistance  would 
cost  her  her  place.  But  after  the  painful  affair  was 
over  he  never  referred  to  it  again,  except  by  treating 
her  with  ever-increasing  trust.  On  her  side,  too, 
admiration  for  Mr.  Durant  held  firm  through  all 
their  differences,  and  ceased  only  with  her  life. 

Yet  this  incident  will  indicate  some  of  the  per- 
plexities which  filled  the  early  years  when,  under 
its  masterful  leader,  the  hastily  gathered  college  was 


TEACHING  AT  WTLLESLEY  99 

learning  to  organize  itself.  Such  things  cost  blood. 
So  did  the  immense  load  of  her  teaching.  So  did  the 
penetrating  personal  influence  of  which  she  was  so 
lavish.  So  did  her  longing  for  her  dead  sister.  So  did 
the  efforts  she  was  making  to  help  her  brother 
through  college.  Such  a  person  confines  herself  to  no 
single  care,  nor  accepts  ease  when  exhaustion  requires 
it;  but,  hiding  her  inner  bleedings  from  herself  as 
well  as  from  others,  carries  for  their  sake  a  group  of 
interwoven  anxieties. 

Such  at  least  was  Miss  Freeman's  prodigality  at 
this  time.  Later  she  learned,  though  she  always 
found  it  difficult,  a  larger  generosity.  Never  sturdy, 
she  came  to  Wellesley  in  broken  health  and  had  no 
time  to  repair  it.  The  cough  which  she  took  from 
Windsor  to  Ann  Arbor  grew  constantly  more  racking, 
until  in  February,  1880,  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs 
occurred.  It  was  the  busiest  time  of  the  year,  and 
she  at  first  persuaded  Dr.  Bowditch  to  let  her  con- 
tinue work  until  the  spring  recess.  But  on  fuller 
examination  he  ordered  her  off  at  once,  advising 
Southern  France,  and  saying  that  probably  she  had 
but  six  months  to  live.  She  turned  to  Windsor,  and 
on  the  way  through  New  York  consulted  Dr.  Willard 
Parker.  I  find  a  note  in  which  she  has  recorded,  "  Dr. 
Parker  tells  me  I  can  live  if  I  have  character  and 
courage  enough."  He  made  her  feel  the  recklessness 
of  ways  of  living  which  she  had  previously  thought 


100  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

necessary ;  he  sent  her  to  the  open  air,  to  exercises  in 
breathing,  to  hygiene,  food,  and  care.  She  went  to 
the  old  farm  and  took  herself  resolutely  in  hand. 
By  isolation,  energy,  and  healthful  surroundings, 
she  refitted  herself  so  that  she  was  able  to  return  to 
Wellesley  in  April,  after  the  spring  recess,  and  to 
carry  her  full  work  until  the  end  of  the  term.  The 
summer  brought  further  invigoration.  Thus  at  the 
very  outset  of  her  career  she  was  seemingly  crippled ; 
but  accepting  the  disaster  in  her  usual  optimistic 
way,  she  drew  from  it  such  knowledge  of  the  laws  of 
health  as  turned  her  into  a  vigorous  woman.  When 
she  was  examined  eight  years  later  the  lesion  had 
entirely  disappeared,  nor  did  it  ever  return. 

But  the  unorganized  conditions  at  Wellesley 
proved  dangerous  to  others  beside  herself.  Mr. 
Durant  was  slowly  sinking  throughout  1880  and 
1881,  and  in  October  of  the  latter  year  he  died. 
About  the  same  time  Miss  Howard's  feeble  health 
altogether  gave  way  and  compelled  her  to  resign. 
A  meeting  of  the  Trustees  was  held  on  November  15, 
and  Miss  Freeman  was  appointed  vice-president, 
but  acting  president  for  the  year.  Though  she  was 
the  youngest  professor  then  in  service,  and  so  far  as 
I  can  learn  the  youngest  that  has  ever  been  ap- 
pointed there,  she  had  already  so  proved  her  power 
that  the  judgment  of  the  Faculty  went  with  that  of 
the  Trustees.  Being  unwilling  to  withdraw  altogether 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY         101 

from  her  courses  in  history,  she  continued  a  portion 
of  her  teaching  for  a  time,  but  also  entered  imme- 
diately on  her  executive  work. 

When  the  surprising  election  was  communicated 
to  Miss  Freeman,  only  a  few  hours  could  be  allowed 
her  for  deliberation.  The  following  account  of  how 
she  spent  those  hours  is  furnished  by  a  former 
Wellesley  teacher  and  confirmed  from  an  indepen- 
dent source:  "  When  the  question  of  accepting  the 
presidency  was  presented  to  her  for  immediate  deci- 
sion, she  took  her  horse  and  drove  away  quite  alone 
over  quiet  country  roads,  so  deep  in  thought  that 
she  noticed  nothing  about  her  until  she  found  herself 
miles  away,  somewhere  beyond  South  Framingham. 
When  most  young  women  would  have  consumed  the 
time  in  asking  advice  of  older  persons  whose  expe- 
rience would  have  been  of  little  service,  she,  like 
St.  Paul,  conferred  not  with  flesh  and  blood,  but 
sought  the  solitary  place  and  communed  with  her 
own  soul." 

I  have  already  shown  the  necessarily  disturbed 
condition  of  the  college  in  these  early  years.  There 
were  now  fears  of  trouble  from  the  more  than  usually 
animated  senior  class.  They  had  intimations  of  the 
election  almost  as  soon  as  Miss  Freeman  learned  it 
herself,  and  were  much  elated  over  the  prospect  of 
being  ruled  by  a  president  but  little  older  than  them- 
selves. When  Miss  Freeman  returned  to  her  rooms, 


102  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

she  sent  for  this  class.  They  came  in  a  body,  filhng 
with  their  merry  presence  all  her  chairs,  tables,  and 
floor.  She  told  them  she  had  called  them  together 
because  she  needed  their  advice.  She  had  been  asked 
that  day  to  become  acting  president  of  Wellesley. 
She  was  too  young  for  the  oflBce.  Indeed,  its  duties 
were  too  heavy  for  any  one.  If  she  must  meet  them 
alone,  she  would  have  to  decline.  But  it  had  occurred 
to  her  that  perhaps  they  would  be  willing  to  take  part 
with  her,  looking  after  the  order  of  the  college  them- 
selves, and  leaving  her  free  for  general  administra- 
tion. If  they  were  ready  to  undertake  this,  she 
thought  she  might  accept.  Of  course  the  response 
was  hearty.  They  voted  themselves  her  assistants 
on  the  spot,  and  difficult  indeed  it  was  for  any  mem- 
ber of  the  three  lower  classes  to  stray  from  the 
straight  path  that  year.  I  once  asked  Mrs.  Palmer 
how  she  managed  to  survive  the  severities  of  a  first 
presidential  year,  and  she  answered  that  she  could 
not  have  done  it  if  she  had  not  had  the  help  of  the 
seniors.  Of  the  instantaneous  resourcefulness  which 
secured  her  that  help  she  said  nothing.  This  I  have 
learned  since  her  death  from  a  member  of  the  class. 

LETTERS 

Clara  D.  has  just  been  in  my  room,  all  excited 
over  Jacob  and  Esau.  "Jacob  was  such  a  selfish 
wretch  to  steal  that  birthright."  She  delights  in  get- 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY         103 

ting  herself  wrought  up,  and  I  decidedly  disapprove 
it.  She  tires  her  friends,  and  I  am  careful  not  to  let 
her  draw  upon  my  strength  unduly.  In  fact  it  is  mj 
principle  here  not  to  be  intimate  with  any  of  the 
girls  or  to  let  them  waste  much  of  my  time.  Unless 
you  are  careful  in  this  great  family,  all  your  time 
goes  uselessly.  You  accomplish  nothing.  I  think 
Mr.  Durant  expects  his  teachers  to  give  themselves 
boundlessly  to  the  girls;  but  I  can't  do  that  this 
year  even  if  I  don't  "make  them  adore  me,"  as  he 
says  I  must.  It  is  a  good  thing  for  my  health  to  be 
unpopular  enough  to  be  let  alone,  and  I  shan't  try 
to  be  anything  else.  What  do  you  think  of  that  ? 

I  don't  know  what  to  do  about  a  watch.  Our  reci- 
tations are  partly  lectures,  partly  notes,  and  partly 
questions.  So  I  must  have  some  guide  in  time,  and 
none  is  provided  here.  Fifty  dollars  will  get  me  as 
good  a  one  as  I  shall  ever  need.  But  I  am  not  paid 
until  October.  Perhaps  I  can  get  along  until  then. 
Only  there  are  F.'s  college  expenses.  Mother,  could 
you  meet  those  bills  at  present  and  let  me  send  the 
money  later? 

Nobody  is  so  much  what  she  ought  to  be  as  a  good 
girl,  if  only  people  would  let  her  alone.  One  of  the 
freshmen  has  just  left  me  after  an  hour  of  eager  talk. 
She  has  a  wonderfully  bright,  attractive  mind,  sensi- 


104  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

live  but  timid,  afraid  lest  her  "sins  are  too  stultifying 
to  leave  enough  soul  to  be  worth  saving."  How  I  like 
to  talk  of  these  things  with  such  girls,  so  honest  and 
simple,  so  unwilling  to  run  any  risk  of  shirking  duty 
or  failing  of  the  truth !  If  we  could  only  trust  God 
and  lead  natural,  simple  lives !  This  child's  mind  is 
full  of  what  men  —  Presbyterians  of  Albany  —  have 
been  telling  her  about  God's  ways,  and  therefore  of 
much  that  is  both  unreasonable  and  hopeless.  But  we 
have  had  a  good  hour,  and  she  sees  that  a  religious 
life  does  n't  consist  in  feeling  either  great  sorrow  for 
sin  or  great  exaltation  and  rapture  over  forgiveness. 
How  patient  God  is  with  us  all !  I  wonder  at  it  more 
and  more,  when  he  has  so  much  to  tell,  and  we  such 
slowness  in  understanding. 

I  have  just  sent  the  girls  out  of  my  room,  telling 
them  they  must  give  me  a  chance  to  write  a  birthday 
letter  to  my  father.  The  truth  is,  an  individual  girl 
is  a  lovely  and  bewitching  creature,  but  five  hundred 
come  to  be  a  trifle  —  just  a  trifle  —  tiresome  once  in 
a  long  time.  As  old  age  comes  on,  I  am  afraid  I  shall 
grow  homesick.  Certainly  I  have  never  wished  so 
much  to  be  at  home  as  this  last  year.  Don't  you 
think  it  would  be  nice  to  settle  down  somewhere  and 
enjoy  life  awhile  ?  When  shall  we  begin  ?  "VMien 
Christmas  comes  I  am  going  home.  I  really  can't 
stay  away  longer.    But  remember  I  am  very  well 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY        105 

this  year,  and  all  things  here  seem  harmonious  and 
prosperous.   God  keep  them  so! 

It  is  "Silent  Time,"  and  all  the  house  is  still.  I 
will  write  to  you  instead  of  reading  my  Bible.  I  have 
just  come  from  one  of  the  little  talks  I  am  giving  on 
Fridays.  For  two  evenings  my  recitation  room  has 
been  so  crowded  that  the  girls  have  stood  in  the  cor- 
ridor as  far  as  they  could  hear.  Now  they  have  asked 
me  to  go  up  to  the  large  lecture  room.  This  talk 
about  my  "lectures  "  makes  me  feel  cheap.  But 
to-night  I  promised  to  go  there  for  the  next  time.  I 
was  speaking  on  Dante,  and  several  of  the  teachers 
came.  Next  week  the  subject  is  Savonarola.  We  are 
arousing  some  interest  in  history.  There's  need 
enough.  You  can't  think  how  discouraged  I  some- 
times am. 

I  am  spending  these  holidays  at  home  and  find 
them  like  a  pleasant  dream,  full  of  little  house-talks, 
of  neighbors  dropping  in,  of  rides  and  drives  and 
long  walks,  and  here  and  there  a  touch  of  business. 
One  morning  was  taken  up  by  a  gentleman  who 
insisted  on  my  writing  an  English  history !  He  will 
give  me  two  years  to  do  it.  The  publishers  will  make 
any  terms  I  may  name.  A  bright  little  woman  has  a 
book  that  she  wishes  me  "to  edit  in  order  to  insure 
its  sale."   What  a  queer  world  it  is!   And  the  same 


106  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

day  good  Mrs.  O.  comes  to  get  me  to  drive  six  miles 
to  her  Industrial  School.  But  a  college  friend  is  also 
here  for  the  day,  and  he  gives  her  five  dollars  for  her 
school  in  order  to  have  my  company  for  the  afternoon. 
She  seems  pleased,  he  satisfied,  and  my  family  dis- 
cover how  much  half  a  day  of  my  presence  is  worth. 

Your  letter  finds  me  in  the  hospital,  where  I  am 
shut  in  with  the  sunshine,  and  going  to  make  a  care- 
ful study  of  my  health.  Last  Saturday,  after  an 
unusually  busy  week,  I  found  myself  exhausted.  I 
am  ashamed  of  being  so  tired.  So  I  came  down 
here  to  rest.  The  breath  of  Spring  is  all  about  me  as 
I  write,  for  the  room  is  full  of  flowers  sent  by  my 
"rosebud  garden  of  girls  "  !  Their  constant  thought- 
fulness  sweetens  life  at  every  step,  and  I  feel  rich  in 
their  love,  whether  it  chances  to  find  expression  in 
roses  and  lilies  or  not. 

And  you  want  me  to  be  with  you  ?  Well,  I  will  be 
somewhere,  some  when,  somehow.  Only  it  can't  be 
this  vacation.  But  you  are  simply  an  old  splendid  to 
ask  me.  Give  me  advice  about  a  new  suit.  I  saw  in 
Boston  a  dress  of  almost  invisible  green.  It  occurred 
to  me  it  would  be  pretty  for  spring  and  fall  days, 
with  a  bonnet  of  the  same,  brightened  with  a  dash 
of  color.  One  could  wear  wuth  it  creamy  tea  roses, 
or  apple  blossoms,  or  scarlet  poppies  in  the  fall. 
Kate  says,  "  Your  hair  and  eyes  are  just  the  same 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY         107 

color.  Get  a  dress  to  match."  Annie  thinks  dark 
brown  or  deep  wine  color  would  be  better.  Now 
what  do  you,  my  artist,  advise  ? 

But  I  must  stop.  Annie  will  fill  up  the  envelope. 
It  makes  me  cough  to  write.  I  had  a  slight  hem- 
orrhage last  week,  and  so  must  rest.  Everybody 
—  especially  Mr.  Durant  and  Miss  Howard  —  is 
angelic.  Mr.  D.  came  and  talked  with  me  a  long 
time  on  Thursday.  He  said,  "  You  shall  have  two 
assistants  next  year.  I'll  do  anything  in  the  world 
if  you'll  only  get  well,  Miss  Freeman." 

Since  I  found  myself  in  the  novel  condition  of 
being  really  ill  two  months  ago,  I  have  been  in  great 
doubt  much  of  the  time  about  what  I  ought  to  do. 
I  need  rest  and  quiet  more  than  anything  else.  I  have 
given  up  much  of  my  extra  work,  and  still  have  kept 
as  much  as  possible.  During  these  few  days  of  plea- 
sant weather  I  have  grown  better  rapidly. 

Dr.  Bowditch,  the  authority  on  lung  diseases  in 
Boston,  whom  I  consulted  last  week,  told  me  that 
with  great  caution  I  might  remain  here  awhile,  un- 
less I  grow  worse.  It  is  very  bad  for  the  college  and 
for  me  to  give  up  now,  unless  continuing  the  respon- 
sibility is  entirely  unsafe.  So  I  conclude  to  wait  until 
the  spring  vacation.  If  then  I  do  not  feel  equal  to 
the  next  term's  work,  they  offer  leave  of  absence 
until  September.    The  first  two  weeks  in  April  I 


108  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

shall  spend  on  the  old  farm  in  Southern  New  York, 
where  I  shall  have  fresh  air  and  quiet  to  my  heart's 
content.  Through  this  rest  I  hope  to  be  better  thar 
ever  before. 

So  you  see,  sir,  I  am  provided  for  and  have  no  oc- 
casion to  accept  your  generous  offer.  But  I  thank 
you  for  it.  It  will  be  something  good  to  remember. 
In  case  of  emergency  I  shall  feel  that  I  may  go  to  you 
for  advice  and  assistance.  I  cannot  afford  to  break 
down  now.  There  is  so  much  to  do  before  I  can 
rightfully  take  the  rest  that  I  had  hoped  not  to  need 
for  years  yet.  But  I  have  been  very  foolish  to  over- 
work so  here,  and  shall  steadfastly  refuse  to  do 
double  work  hereafter.  Give  my  hearty  good  wishes 
to  your  wife  and  daughter. 

I  have  succeeded  in  avoiding  fresh  colds  and  am 
charmed  that  I  have  had  no  drawbacks  of  any  kind. 
Don't  you  people  worry  over  my  "going  back." 
Miss  Howard  and  I  have  the  matter  well  in  hand. 
She  is  delightful  to  me,  and  I  am  to  have  no  further 
responsibility  in  the  house.  I  have  arranged  for  only 
five  recitations  and  lectures  a  week  next  term.  I  shall 
not  try  to  prove  to  any  one  that  I  have  done  more 
hard  thinking  in  the  last  three  years  on  the  subject  of 
my  health  —  and  to  more  purpose  also  —  than  they 
imagine.  But  my  physicians  know  that  I  could  not 
otherwise  have  rallied  from  the  Saginaw  experience. 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY        109 

It  hurts  me  to  have  those  I  love  fretted  more  than  is 
necessary. 

Mother,  I  never  was  in  quite  such  perplexity  before. 
Formerly  when  a  teacher  was  sick,  either  in  hospital 
or  absent  from  College,  the  salary  went  on.  Last 
summer  the  Trustees  passed  a  law  that  when  a 
teacher  was  away  her  salary  should  be  stopped. 
Four  of  us  have  been  overworked  and  have  had  to 
leave.  We  are  all  in  the  same  situation,  to  us  en- 
tirely unexpected.  The  policy  may  not  be  generous, 
considering  how  teachers  work  here;  but  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done.  I  am  out  of  a  month's  salary, 
besides  all  the  expense  of  medicine,  doctors,  and 
traveling.  I  am  troubled,  especially  at  not  finding 
it  out  until  so  late.  Mr.  Durant  is  sick  again,  Miss 
Howard  tired  and  away,  and  nothing  is  done  on 
time  in  matters  of  business. 

When  I  found  this  out  yesterday,  I  wrote  C,  tell- 
ing him  I  wanted  fifty  dollars  of  the  hundred  he  owes 
me  sent  at  once  to  F.,  that  if  he  could  n't  send  it  all 
immediately,  he  must  send  what  he  could  next  week 
If  he  does  this,  and  F.  can  spare  fifteen  of  it  to  pay 
you  what  I  borrowed,  I  shall  be  much  relieved.  If 
he  does  n't,  F.  must  run  in  debt,  and  I  will  send 
enough  to  meet  all  the  bills  at  the  next  payment  the 
first  of  June.  This  being  sick  all  winter  has  cer- 
tainly taken  two  hundred  dollars  out  of  my  pocket, 


110  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

and  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  five  hundred  before  all  is 
ended.  I  am  glad  you  were  able  to  make  that  good 
investment;  but  don't  put  out  any  more  at  present, 
for  I  have  set  my  heart  en  your  coming  East  and 
Papa's  visiting  his  relations  in  the  West  this  summer. 
Fifty  dollars  apiece  pays  traveling  expenses,  and  I 
am  going  to  set  apart  that  from  my  salary  for  May 
and  June  for  this  specific  purpose.  I  don't  want 
father  to  sell  his  horse  and  carriage  so  long  as  he 
stays  in  Saginaw.  Work  presses,  and  I  stop. 

Mr.  Durant  preached  to-day.  If  only  you  could 
have  heard  him,  all  of  you !  It  seems  as  if  some 
great  strange  thing  had  happened,  and  we  must 
speak  and  walk  softly  —  as  when  some  one  has  died. 
There  was  an  atmosphere  of  sacredness  about  it  all. 
It  is  enough  to  break  one's  heart  to  see  his  grand  white 
head  among  these  hundreds  of  girls,  and  hear  him 
plead  with  them  for  "noble,  white,  unselfish  woman- 
hood;" to  hear  him  tell  of  his  hope  and  happiness 
in  them,  and  his  longing  that  "the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  should  cleanse  there,  from  all  sin."  That  was 
his  text.  I  never  heard  and  never  shall  hear  anything 
quite  like  it  for  clear  logic  and  tender  appeal.  This 
is  the  second  time  he  has  preached. 

I  heard  a  man  at  church  this  morning  whose  voice 
called  back  the  dear  old  Windsor  days.    I  wonder 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY         111 

how  the  sermons  which  I  used  to  think  so  good  there 
would  impress  me  now !  This  was  a  half  hour  of 
absolute  commonplace.  The  man  appeared  to  be  a 
devoted  soul  who  really  wished  to  be  useful,  but  who 
had  n't  an  idea  in  his  head  of  what  people  are  think- 
ing about.  If  such  people  would  only  buy  farms  and 
withdraw  from  trying  to  be  leaders !  Religious  peo- 
ple now  feel  that  they  have  no  right  to  waste  time  in 
hearing  pious  nothings  uttered  by  men  who  will  not 
take  the  trouble  to  do  any  thinking.  I  fancy  that  now- 
adays many  stay  away  from  church  conscientiously. 

Last  Tuesday  everything  passed  off  successfully, 
I  believe;  though  I  could  not  judge  very  well,  as  I 
had  to  stand  at  the  reception-room  door  and  "re- 
ceive." But  I  did  not  enjoy  the  address.  It  does 
seem  impossible  for  a  man  to  come  here  and  speak 
in  a  sensible  way  to  sensible  women.  As  usual,  our 
orator  talked  in  a  superior  way  about  woman's  na- 
ture and  condition,  healtli,  etc.  He  said  he  "knew 
the  depths  of  a  woman's  heart."  If  I  live  a  thousand 
years,  I  hope  I  may  never  make  that  remark  about 
any  man.  I  wait  eagerly  for  the  time  when  men  will 
take  our  ability  to  study  for  granted,  and  will  tell 
us  what  we  want  to  hear  about  other  subjects. 

These  are  but  trifles,  dear  mother,  I  send  for  your 
festival.  Since  I  have  only  you  for  my  little  girl, 


112  ALICE  FREEIVIAN  PALMER 

I  lavish  my  playthings  upon  you.  I  had  planned 
something  different.  But  the  truth  is  I  am  having 
a  hard  time  to  get  through  the  year.  Not  that  I  am 
sick,  but  I  am  very  busy  with  doing  "last  things," 
and  very  anxious  about  Mr.  Durant's  health.  Just 
now  I  am  writing  my  annual  report  for  the  Trustees' 
meeting  next  week.  There  are  to  be  radical  changes, 
some  overturnings,  and  it  is  a  question  how  some 
things  will  end.  But  I  do  not  propose  to  worry. 

And  so  it  is  your  birthday,  you  bride-to-be!  Here's 
a  kiss  for  your  forehead,  and  one  for  each  of  your 
blue  eyes  and  sweet  lips  —  even  though  they  are 
now  all  another's.  But  on  a  birthday  you  belong 
especially  to  "the  family."  Happy  may  you  be  when 
you  reach  a  birthday  which  doubles  these  years! 
It 's  so  beautiful  out  in  the  future  for  you ;  the  onward 
path  looks  so  safe  and  sweet.  God  keep  you  always 
glad  and  warm  in  the  loving  arms,  both  heavenly  and 
earthly  !  I  had  a  letter  to-night  from  that  happy  wife 
E.,  and  ever  since  have  been  thinking  how  blessed 
a  thing  it  is  to  be  the  centre  and  soul  of  a  real  home, 
always  certain  that  a  tender  heart  holds  you  close. 
That  certainly  includes  all  that  is  best  in  life. 

As  for  myself  I  am  beginning  to  get  into  the  col- 
lege a  little  more,  and  I  like  what  I  have  exceedingly. 
But  I  don't  feel  at  all  satisfied  with  what  I  am  doing 
nor  with  the  distribution  of  my  time.    What  with 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY    113 

domestic  work,  corridor  care,  section  meetings,  and 
all  the  unexpected  breaks  that  will  come,  I  seem 
to  accomplish  very  little;  and  there  is  so  much  of 
everything  to  be  done  here  before  things  are  as 
they  ought  to  be !  Perhaps  each  day's  little  doing 
counts.  I  hope  so.  One  must  be  patient,  and  these 
girls  are  certainly  beautiful. 

This  is  so  depressing  a  week  that  everything  goes 
hard.  We  have  just  come  from  a  meeting  in  the 
chapel,  which  is  draped  in  the  heaviest  mourning. 
The  desk  on  the  platform  has  in  front  Garfield's 
picture,  life  size,  surrounded  by  heavy  black  folds. 
All  around  the  platform  and  gallery  draperies  of 
black  and  white  are  festooned.  A  large  flag  hangs 
at  half-mast  from  the  organ.  But  I  can't  make  it 
seem  possible  that  he  is  really  dead.  The  students 
have  had  a  mass  meeting  and  nominated  the  presi- 
dent of  each  class  as  a  committee  to  write  a  letter  of 
sympathy  to  Mrs.  Garfield.  Last  night  the  Faculty 
had  a  meeting  and  appointed  me  to  write  her  also,  ex- 
pressing their  united  sorrow. 

But  we  are  in  greater  trouble  over  Mr.  Durant 
than  words  can  tell.  He  has  been  growing  worse. 
Yesterday  there  was  a  council  of  four  physicians 
from  Boston  and  one  from  Philadelphia.  Their 
decision  was  unanimous  that  there  is  little  chance 
of  recovery.  They  told  Mrs.  Durant;  and  when  Mr. 


114  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

Durant  asked  what  they  had  said,  she  told  him. 
In  the  afternoon,  "in  case  he  should  become  uncon- 
scious," he  left  his  final  instructions  about  the  coK 
lege  —  "Christ's  College,"  he  called  it.  All  we  can 
do  now  is  to  wait  and  carry  on  the  college  work. 

All  goes  smoothly.  Miss  Howard  has  been  in  bed 
three  days  this  week,  and  is  not  well  at  any  time; 
nor  have  we  enough  teachers  to  meet  the  extra  de- 
mands made  by  the  new  students.  But  my  depart- 
ment is  well  organized,  is  running  regularly,  and  it 
is  understood  that  this  year  I  do  the  work  of  only  one. 
Several  much-needed  reforms  in  college  arrange- 
ments  have  been  brought  about,  reforms  over  which 
I  have  been  very  anxious.  Altogether  there  is  much 
that  is  hopeful  in  the  outlook  and  my  seven  Ann 
Arbor  friends  here  make  the  place  a  kind  of  home 
for  me. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Freeman  : 

When  Alice  told  me  at  the  dinner  table  how  busy 
she  had  been  this  morning  and  w^as  likely  to  be  this 
afternoon,  I  begged  the  privilege  of  writing  her  home- 
letter  this  week.  She  consented,  on  condition  of  my 
assuring  you  that  she  gives  up  the  pleasant  duty  not 
because  she  is  not  well  or  does  not  long  to  do  it,  but 
simply  because  she  has  such  a  multitude  of  things  to 
attend  to.   I  may  say  that  I  have  been  happily  sur- 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY         115 

prised  to  find  how  good  her  health  has  been  through^ 
out  this  term.  She  has  learned  to  take  care  of  herself 
much  better  than  formerly,  and  I  am  greatly  en- 
couraged. There  seem  to  have  been  good  reasons  for 
her  breaking  down  last  Spring,  which  do  not  now 
exist,  and  I  have  much  hope  that  she  will  keep  well 
all  the  year. 

You  will  not  wonder  at  her  finding  no  time  to 
write  to-day  when  I  tell  you  the  great  news.  At  a 
meeting  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Board  of 
Trustees  held  this  morning,  Miss  Alice  E.  Freeman 
was  appointed  Vice-President  of  Wellesley  College 
for  the  remainder  of  the  year !  Won't  you  be  aston- 
ished ?  There  will  be  astonishment  here  to-night 
when  the  announcement  is  made.  I  think  nobody 
has  a  suspicion  of  the  design  of  the  Trustees,  but  I 
am  equally  sure  that  there  will  be  universal  delight. 
Alice  herself  had  not  a  hint  of  the  matter  till  Tuesday. 
She  was  undecided  at  first,  and  did  not  accept  until 
she  had  talked  the  matter  over  with  Miss  Howard, 
Mrs.  Durant,  and  the  Executive  Committee,  so  that 
there  is  a  perfect  understanding.  She  is  wonderfully' 
fitted  for  the  place,  which  is  virtually  that  of  Presi- 
dent. Miss  Howard  goes  away  at  once  for  rest, 
leaving  Alice  in  sole  charge.  You  probably  know 
that  Miss  Howard's  health  is  still  feeble.  A  good 
deal  of  the  time  she  is  unable  to  attend  to  the  duties 
of  her  position.  Alice  is  not  to  be  subordinate  to  her, 


116         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

but  equal  except  in  name.  The  Trustees  have  said, 
"Do  whatever  you  think  best,  Miss  Freeman,  and 
we  will  stand  by  you."  She  is  to  retain  charge  of  the 
department  of  history,  but  is  to  have  a  second  as- 
sistant and  to  meet  no  classes  except  the  seniors, 
and  them  only  twice  a  week  during  the  second  half 
of  the  year.  She  prefers  to  do  a  little  teaching  for 
the  sake  of  contact  with  the  girls. 

Oh !  I  know  she  will  succeed  splendidly.  Mr. 
Durant  loved  and  trusted  her  perfectly.  All  the 
Trustees  have  entire  confidence  in  her,  and  there  is 
nobody  else  here  whom  the  girls  so  universally  ad- 
mire and  love.  We  Ann  Arbor  people  are  very  proud. 
We  are  hoping  Alice  will  not  need  to  work  harder 
than  she  has  been  working,  though  of  course  her  re- 
sponsibility will  be  much  heavier.  But  she  will  have 
such  hearty  cooperation  on  all  sides  that  I  think  she 
will  not  find  the  burden  too  great.  I  feel  quite  exalted 
to  be  the  first  to  tell  you  of  this  honor,  but  you  can 
hardly  be  prouder  of  Alice  than  you  have  already 
had  reason  to  be. 

(Later.)  I  wish  Alice's  father  and  mother  could 
have  been  in  the  chapel  to-night  when,  before 
evening  prayers,  the  chairman  of  our  Executive 
Committee  made  the  announcement  of  her  promo- 
tion. His  words,  so  fervent  and  strong,  were  such 
as  Mr.  Durant  himself  might  have  used.  To  me  it 
will  always  be  a  memorable  occasion.    But  I  must 


TEACHING  AT  WELLESLEY        117 

lose  no  time  in  sending  off  this  letter  with  its  great 
news.  M.  O.  M. 

I  have  been  writing  letters  every  moment  to-day, 
none  of  them  personal  you  may  be  sure,  all  on  col- 
lege business,  and  still  I  go  to  bed  with  twenty-three 
left  for  to-morrow.  When  I  am  fairly  started  in  my 
new  work  I  hope  to  keep  more  nearly  even.  To- 
morrow I  am  invited  to  lunch  with  one  of  the  Trustees, 
and  all  are  as  kind  and  cordial  as  possible.  The 
girls  and  teachers  too  are  so  loyal  and  thoughtful  that 
I  am  full  of  hope,  even  though  I  can  never  see  my 
way  a  single  day  ahead.  There  is  a  great  deal  in 
it  all  that  is  pleasant,  but  during  the  last  two  months 
I  have  been  obliged  to  get  a  good  many  things  — 
warm  things  for  winter  and  a  few  nice  things  suit- 
able for  "the  acting  president."  You  see  I  have 
to  wear  good  clothes  all  the  time  now  to  compen- 
sate for  my  undignified  appearance.  How  much  I 
would  give  for  a  few  gray  hairs !  I  am  glad  you  are 
glad  at  the  promotion,  and  that  Saginaw  people  are 
pleased.    Warm  letters  come  from  many  friends. 


vn 

THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY 

In  speaking  of  Mrs.  Palmer  just  after  her  death 
President  Eliot  said :  "As  we  look  back  on  the  chief 
events  of  her  too  short  career,  the  first  thing  that 
strikes  us  is  its  originality  at  every  stage;  she  was 
in  the  best  sense  a  pioneer  all  through  her  life.  When 
she  went  to  the  University  of  Michigan  as  a  student, 
she  was  one  of  a  small  band  of  young  women,  ven- 
turing with  motives  of  intellectual  ambition  into  a 
state  university  which  had  just  been  opened  to 
women.  At  twenty-two  years  of  age  she  was  already 
principal  of  a  high  school  in  Michigan.  At  twenty- 
four  she  took  a  professorship  of  history  in  a  new 
college  for  women  where  all  the  officers  and  teachers 
were  women  —  a  pioneer  work  indeed.  At  twenty- 
six  she  became  president  of  that  novel  college,  at  a 
time  when  its  worth  had  not  yet  been  demonstrated. 
Indeed  its  policy  was  then  held  by  many  to  be  of 
doubtful  soundness,  and  its  financial  future  ex- 
tremely  difficult.  What  courage  and  devotion  these 
successive  acts  required  !  Her  work  at  Wellesley  was 
creation,  not  imitation ;  and  it  was  work  done  in  the 
face  of  doubts,  criticisms,  and  prophecies  of  evil." 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     119 

How  original  Miss  Freeman  was  at  Wellesley 
becomes  plainer  when  we  consider  how  short  a  time 
she  was  there.  Her  administration  lasted  but  six 
years.  Beginning  with  the  so-called  vice-presidency 
in  November,  1881,  it  ended  in  December,  1887. 
During  this  brief  term  Miss  Freeman  created  a 
Wellesley  type  which  has  proved  durable.  This  and 
the  following  chapters  set  forth  the  means  by  which 
this  was  accomplished.  Briefly,  it  may  be  said  that 
she  fashioned  the  college  after  her  own  image.  But 
what  were  her  policies  and  methods  ^  ^\^lere  lay  her 
difficulties  ^  By  what  successive  changes  in  organiza- 
tion, studies,  finances,  equipment,  did  she  so  sud- 
denly transform  a  hastily  gathered  and  somewhat 
distrusted  body  of  teachers  and  pupils  into  the  firm- 
built  college  which,  when  she  left  it,  commanded 
universal  respect  ?  These  questions  can  be  answered 
only  imperfectly,  partly  because  of  that  very  original- 
ity which  lends  a  sort  of  mystery  to  all  her  doings, 
partly  on  account  of  the  absence  of  early  documents. 
In  that  confused  time  there  were  no  financial  state- 
ments, no  records  of  the  Faculty,  no  published 
reports  of  the  president.  Miss  Freeman,  it  is  true, 
at  the  close  of  her  first  year  printed  a  president's 
report ;  but  funds  for  the  purpose  seem  to  have  been 
lacking,  and  the  experiment  was  not  repeated.  Her 
letters  seldom  refer  to  her  own  affairs,  but  are  full 
of  those  of  the  one  to  whom  she  writes.  My  acquaint- 


120  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

ance  with  either  her  or  the  college  did  not  begin  till 
near  the  close  of  her  term.  For  the  most  part,  there- 
fore, I  am  obliged  to  depend  on  catalogues  and  on 
the  memories  of  her  early  associates. 

Pioneer  as  Miss  Freeman  was  at  Wellcsley,  her 
work  there  would  have  been  impossible  if  the  way 
had  not  been  prepared  by  Mr.  Durant.  On  his  broad 
foundations  she  built.  His  large  designs  were  hers 
also.  He  had  selected  her  from  the  Faculty  as  the 
one  whose  temper  was  most  congenial  to  his  own. 
In  the  preceding  chapter  I  have  called  attention  to 
his  dread  of  routine,  his  aversion  to  text-books,  his 
approval  of  laboratory  methods,  original  research, 
and  whatever  arouses  individual  activity.  This 
forceful  spirit  shaped  the  plan  of  his  college.  In  his 
catalogue  for  1877  he  announces  that  the  conditions 
for  entrance  will  be  steadily  raised.  Then,  after 
prescribing  the  studies  of  the  freshman  year,  —  and 
prescription  was  at  that  time  the  practice  in  all  col- 
leges except  Harvard,  — he  proposes  to  throw  open 
to  sophomores  seven  different  elective  courses,  or 
groups  of  studies,  among  which  a  student  may 
choose.  Each  of  these  courses  contains  also  within 
its  coherent  group  large  elements  of  election.  And 
this  is  true  even  of  that  "  general  course  "  which 
he  states  is  "  for  many  probably  the  most  desirable." 
Few  colleges  in  the  country  had  at  that  time  a  pro- 
gramme so  liberal.   He  provides  for  graduate  work, 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     121 

allows  students  not  candidates  for  a  degree  to  enter 
as  specials,  and  offers  to  mature  women  who  have 
been  teaching  for  several  years  —  "teacher  spe- 
cials"—  the  privilege  of  following  for  brief  periods 
whatever  studies  they  please.  He  encourages  athlet- 
ics too,  introduces  rowing,  and  requires  of  every  girl 
at  least  an  hour  a  day  of  exercise  in  the  open  air; 
declaring  that  "when  the  women  of  the  country 
unite  in  observing,  protesting  against,  and  reforming 
the  fatal  causes  which  destroy  girls'  health,  the 
calumny  that  woman's  mind  and  woman's  body  are 
too  frail  to  bear  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  will  perish 
with  other  forgotten  prejudices." 

In  spite,  however,  of  these  far-sighted  provisions, 
Wellesley  College  when  Mr.  Durant  died  was  by 
no  means  what  he  or  Miss  Freeman  desired  it  to  be. 
In  fact  it  existed  but  in  germ.  There  had  been  no 
time  to  elaborate  its  organization.  In  the  last  two 
years  Mr.  Durant  was  sinking,  as  was  also  his  lieu- 
tenant, Miss  Howard ;  and  in  the  previous  years  his 
own  mind  had  passed  through  great  changes  in 
trying  to  grasp  the  notion  of  his  proposed  college. 
Originally  he  schemed  it  as  a  female  seminary,  after 
the  pattern  of  Mt.  Holyoke.  For  this  a  charter  was 
obtained  in  1870.  In  1873  the  name  was  changed  to 
Wellesley  College.  In  1875  its  vast  building  was 
opened  and  its  first  students  were  admitted.  In  1877 
the  right  to  grant  degrees  was  obtained.  Not  till  1879 


122  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

did  it  graduate  a  class,  or  begin  graduate  work;  not 
till  1880  did  it  drop  its  preparatory  department.  It 
was  this  rough  sketch  of  a  college,  rather  than  the 
finished  thing,  which  the  girl-president  received 
from  the  dying  founder;  a  sketch  truly  noble,  but 
needing  correction,  completion,  and  —  as  prelimi- 
nary to  these  —  a  general  setting  in  order.  My 
presentation  of  her  work  at  Wellesley  will  be  divided 
into  two  parts :  in  the  first  I  group  her  more  im- 
portant administrative  measures,  in  the  second  I 
attempt  some  analysis  of  her  personal  influence. 

Certain  features  of  Mr.  Durant's  scheme,  certain 
of  its  best  features,  were  not  developed.  During 
Miss  Freeman's  administration  the  policy  of  elective 
studies  was  everywhere  a  novelty,  and  one  which, 
being  not  yet  understood,  stirred  strong  opposition. 
It  involved  also  grave  financial  difficulties  in  execu- 
tion. It  was  an  experimental  method,  which  only  a 
strong  college  could  afford  to  practice  extensively. 
Pressed  upon  a  college  not  yet  firmly  organized,  it 
tended  to  increase  debt  and  disorder,  its  stimulating 
methods  being  easily  mistaken  for  absence  of 
restraint.  Under  election,  too,  more  work  is  thrown 
on  the  Faculty,  a  class  being  broken  up  into  small 
groups,  each  requiring  a  difl'erent  treatment.  More 
teachers  are  called  for,  and  a  larger  fund  for  paying 
them  than  is  necessary  under  the  prescribed  system. 
Wellesley  was  just  starting.  Its  students,  its  teachers. 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     123 

were  ill  prepared  for  their  strange  work,  and  it  had 
no  endowment  beyond  grounds,  buildings,  and 
library.  For  such  a  college  conservatism  was  wise. 
Naturally  inclined  by  years  and  disposition  to  pro- 
gressive methods,  ISIiss  Freeman  on  the  whole  held 
steadily  to  simplicity,  order,  solidity  of  organization, 
avoiding  whatever  might  lead  to  confusion,  loose- 
ness, experiment,  and  expense.  Almost  imper- 
ceptibly Mr.  Durant's  seven  elective  courses  con- 
tracted themselves  to  two:  the  General  Classical 
Course,  leading  to  the  B.  A.  degree  —  substantially 
as  he  had  planned  it  —  containing,  besides  its  litera- 
ture and  history,  a  good  dose  of  mathematics  and 
science,  a  prescribed  freshman  year,  and  about  a 
third  of  its  later  studies  elective;  while  a  course 
requiring  no  Greek  at  entrance,  and  having  through- 
out a  larger  proportion  of  science,  received  the  B.  S. 
For  music,  as  in  Mr.  Durant's  time,  no  specific 
degree  was  given.  A  student  was  allowed  to  dis- 
tribute music  throughout  either  of  the  other  two 
regular  courses,  thus  expanding  them  to  five  years, 
and  receiving  a  degree  accordingly.  Fuller  develop- 
ment of  the  elective  system  was  —  in  my  judgment 
wisely  —  deferred  to  a  later  time.  Nor  can  I  learn 
that  the  three  courses  leading  to  advanced  honors, 
which  Mr.  Durant  planned,  were  ever  considerably 
elected.  Probably  in  that  early  day  few  students  were 
suitably  prepared. 


124  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

But  If  Miss  Freeman  accepted  a  policy  of  restraint 
in  the  matter  of  election  and  did  not  carry  individual 
option  much  beyond  the  point  where  Mr.  Durant 
left  it,  she  did  so  only  in  order  that  she  might  the 
more  thoroughly  consolidate  instruction,  adjust  it 
to  her  limited  means,  and  give  the  college  a  firmer 
hold  on  the  community.  The  conditions  for  entrance 
were  repeatedly  raised  and  their  exact  enforcement 
watched.  Greek  was  first  required  at  entrance  in 
1881,  English  literature  and  composition  were  soon 
after  added,  with  history,  both  ancient  and  modern. 
Special  students  were  not  admitted  unless  able  to 
pass  examinations.  Greater  care  was  used  in  setting 
and  marking  examination  papers.  In  1880  it  had 
been  decided  to  accept  the  certificates  of  certain 
schools  as  entitling  their  graduates  to  enter  college 
without  examination.  This  system  has  many  advan- 
tages ;  but  if  the  schools  are  not  frequently  inspected 
and  held  to  a  rigid  standard,  certification  becomes 
a  paper  requirement  and  scholarship  sinks.  Miss 
Freeman  systematized  inspection  and  drew  up  a 
certificate  which,  while  laying  little  stress  on  opinions 
about  the  student's  competence,  demanded  the  pre- 
cise facts  of  her  training  during  the  immediately 
preceding  years.  Similar  care  in  the  conduct  of 
examinations  was  enforced  throughout  the  college. 
There  was  a  general  rise  in  standards.  Many  in- 
formants tell  me  that  the  most  marked  change  pro- 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     125 

duced  by  Miss  Freeman's  coming  was  this  new 
atmosphere  of  exactitude,  work,  and  insistence  on 
what  a  college  should  mean,  succeeding  a  sort  of 
boarding-school  looseness.  The  girls  no  longer 
played  at  going  to  college,  —  they  really  went. 

How  to  obtain  properly  qualified  students  was  a 
difficult  problem.  College-fitting  schools  for  boys 
had  long  been  common  and  excellent,  but  of  course 
there  could  be  nothing  of  the  kind  for  girls  until 
girls'  colleges  also  came  into  being.  In  only  a  few 
high  schools  were  girls  allowed  to  join  classes  which 
fitted  boys  for  college.  On  account  of  this  lack  of 
schools  Mr.  Durant  was  obliged  to  open  a  prepara- 
tory department  and  train  his  candidates  from  the 
start.  For  several  years  these  students  largely  out- 
numbered those  in  the  college.  But  in  the  year  that 
Miss  Freeman  became  vice-president  the  prepara- 
tory department  was  cut  off  and  the  independent  fit- 
ting school  of  Dana  Hall  was  established  in  Wellesley. 
To  founding  more  such  feeders  Miss  Freeman  ad- 
dressed herself,  and  her  work  in  this  direction  was 
one  of  her  greatest  services  to  the  college.  In  1884 
an  important  auxiliary  school  was  opened  in  Phila- 
delphia. Before  the  end  of  her  presidency  she  had 
organized  fifteen  others  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  oflScered  for  the  most  part  by  Wellesley 
graduates,  and  with  courses  so  shaped  by  the  college 
that  their  graduates  could  safely  enter  it  on  certifi- 


126  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

cate.  Perhaps  this  plan  of  connecting  her  college 
with  a  special  group  of  schools  was  suggested  to  her 
by  the  example  of  Michigan. 

One  of  Miss  Freeman's  chief  anxieties  was  the 
problem  of  housing.  To  it  she  refers  in  her  first 
report,  and  it  never  ceased  to  trouble  her.  Only  so 
many  students  could  be  received  as  college  buildings 
would  hold ;  for  the  village  of  Wellesley,  half  a  mile 
distant,  was  small  and  at  that  time  ill  provided  with 
boarding-houses.  On  account  of  scanty  accommoda- 
tions more  than  a  hundred  desirable  candidates  were 
turned  away  each  year.  Indeed  the  number  of  stu- 
dents increased  less  than  two  hundred  during  the 
whole  of  Miss  Freeman's  presidency,  rising  gradu- 
ally from  four  hundred  and  fifty  to  six  hundred  and 
twenty-five,  as  places  for  them  could  be  found.  The 
original  building,  four  hundred  and  seventy-five  feet 
long,  held  three  hundred ;  Stone  Hall,  given  by  Mrs. 
Stone  in  1880,  taking  another  hundred.  In  1881  Mr. 
Simpson  gave  a  cottage  with  accommodations  for 
twenty-five,  and  in  the  same  year  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Durant  fitted  up  a  second  cottage  for  half  as  many 
more.  But  when  all  were  filled  girls  still  clamored  for 
entrance,  and  larger  numbers  would  have  benefited 
the  college  itself.  While  every  college  is  in  large  meas- 
ure a  charity  school  and  does  not  expect  its  students 
to  pay  for  what  they  get,  up  to  a  limit  this  loss  dimin- 
ishes as  students  increase.   A  certain  cost  for  plant 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     127 

is  incurred  in  any  case,  and  this  may  with  advan- 
tage be  widely  distributed.  While  Miss  Freeman  had 
no  financial  responsibility  —  all  funds  being  under 
the  exclusive  control  of  Mrs.  Durant  —  she  was 
naturally  anxious  to  make  the  income  more  nearly 
equal  the  expense  and  also  to  extend  the  influence 
of  Wellesley. 

In  1885,  when  the  decennial  of  the  college  arrived, 
she  started  a  general  subscription  for  a  new  hall, 
Norumbega,  which  was  opened  in  the  following 
year.  But  it  was  one  of  the  disappointments  of  her 
administration  that  the  public  could  not  be  brought 
at  once  to  the  support  of  Wellesley.  Few  gifts  came 
from  outside  the  circle  of  Mr.  Durant's  friends, 
though  within  that  circle  there  were  generous  and  dis- 
criminating givers.  Professor  Eben  Norton  Horsford, 
in  particular,  endowed  the  library,  provided  the 
means  for  granting  professors  sabbatical  years,  and  in 
general  looked  after  the  comfort  of  students,  teachers, 
and  president  with  singular  tact  and  devotion.  But 
a  larger  income  was  necessary;  and  Miss  Freeman, 
though  feeling  it  well  to  keep  the  charges  as  low  as 
possible  and  so  to  make  the  college  accessible  to  poor 
students,  was  compelled  to  raise  the  fee  for  board 
and  tuition  in  1882  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars to  two  hundred  and  seventy-five,  and  again  in 
1884  to  three  hundred.  Aids  to  students,  however, 
were  also  increased.   In  her  presidency  the  number 


128  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

of  scholarships  was  doubled,  as  were  too  the  gifts 
of  the  Students'  Aid  Society,  a  band  of  ladies  organ- 
ized for  the  private  assistance  of  those  in  need.  To 
commemorate  Miss  Freeman  after  she  became  ]Mrs. 
Palmer,  Mrs.  Durant  in  1888  erected  a  new  hall  and 
named  it  Freeman  Cottage. 

But  if  Miss  Freeman  was  thus  hampered  by  the 
inadequate  preparation  of  students  and  by  meagre 
financial  resources,  she  became  only  the  more  deter- 
mined and  ingenious  in  providing  her  girls  the  utmost 
still  possible  in  scholarship,  health,  character,  and 
enjoyment.  Where  little  money  is,  there  often 
appears  a  kind  of  compensatory  devotion.  Perhaps 
too  the  limitation  of  numbers  was  for  another  reason 
not  altogether  a  loss.  It  enabled  her  to  choose  from 
those  who  applied  the  intellectually  and  physically 
strong,  giving  her  a  compact  body  of  earnest  stu- 
dents who  counted  themselves  exceptionally  fortu- 
nate. Such  a  company  is  excellent  material  for  the 
building  of  a  college.  In  it  hard  work,  loyalty,  unity 
of  ideals  are  more  easily  secured.  All  students  of  that 
day  knew  one  another's  names  and  were  known  by 
their  president.  Friendships  were  more  intimate, 
the  life  of  the  college  more  intense,  romance  was  easy. 

As  regards  teachers  Miss  Freeman's  policy  was  to 
spend  on  them  the  largest  possible  percentage  of 
income.  She  wished  to  see  their  number  increase 
and  their  hours  of  work  diminish.    She  herself  had 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     129 

had  serious  experience  in  the  debilitating  effects  of 
many  required  hours.  She  knew  that  the  most  stim- 
ulating teaching  cannot  be  had  from  those  who  lack 
leisure.  Of  course  salaries  were  small;  but  she  con- 
trived to  secure  half  a  dozen  capital  scholars  in  her 
chief  chairs  and  to  assure  herself  that  each  person 
appointed  to  an  inferior  post  had  some  distinctive 
merit.  She  understood  that  the  deepest  claim  on  her 
as  an  appointer  came  from  the  students,  that  they 
be  assured  of  excellent  teaching;  and  that  the  claim 
of  individual  teachers  was  only  secondary,  that  they 
be  kept  in  comfortable  places.  She  did  not  hesitate 
therefore  kindly  to  drop  a  tolerable  instructor  so 
soon  as  a  superior  appeared.  Her  estimate  of  per- 
sons was  pretty  accurate,  and  she  left  a  much 
stronger  Faculty  than  she  found. 

That  Faculty  was  built  up  out  of  departmental 
groups;  that  is,  all  teachers  dealing  with  a  common 
subject  were  banded  together  under  a  head-pro- 
fessor and  constituted  a  single  unit.  This  professor 
arranged  the  work  of  the  department  and  was  re- 
sponsible for  its  quality  to  the  president.  Miss  Free- 
man developed  and  dignified  the  departments.  They 
appear  for  the  first  time  in  her  second  catalogue, 
their  organized  meetings  beginning  in  the  preceding 
year.  They  then  numbered  twelve,  but  had  risen 
to  sixteen  when  she  retired.  In  earlier  days  teachers 
of  every  rank  met  in  the  not  very  important  faculty 


130         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

meetings,  to  discuss  such  details  of  government  or 
instruction  as  were  not  already  settled  by  Mr.  Du- 
rant.  After  the  formation  of  departments  Miss 
Freeman  left  to  the  general  Faculty  matters  of  dis- 
cipline and  of  routine  administration,  but  more  and 
more  turned  to  the  heads  of  departments  for  con- 
sultation on  questions  of  educational  policy.  In  this 
way  almost  insensibly  there  grew  up  the  body  known 
as  the  Academic  Council,  which  has  continued  to 
this  day.  Seeking  stability  as  she  everywhere  did, 
she  found  she  could  best  send  her  ideas  through  the 
college  by  coming  close  to  the  permanent  leaders. 
For  similar  reasons,  standing  committees  were  formed 
to  take  charge  of  such  weighty  interests  as  entrance 
examinations,  preparatory  schools,  graduate  in- 
struction, the  library,  the  choice  of  studies;  this 
last  committee  being  a  veritable  board  of  advisers, 
to  which  every  girl  must  submit  her  schedule  of 
electives  before  she  could  register  it  as  her  own. 

The  library  had  its  collections  doubled  and  its 
cataloguing  systematized.  Much  was  done  for  the 
laboratories,  for  which  she  makes  an  appeal  in 
her  first  report.  She  refitted  the  gymnasium,  intro- 
ducing into  it  the  Sargent  system  of  apparatus,  of 
measurements,  and  health  records,  and  putting  af 
its  head  an  esthusiastic  director  of  physical  culture. 
Competitive  contests  were  forbidden,  but  such  co- 
operative  sports   as   bring  health,  enjoyment,  and 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     131 

grace  were  earnestly  encouraged.  Attention  was  paid 
to  the  voices  of  the  students,  and  an  ofBcer  was 
appointed  to  train  them  in  quiet  and  expressive 
reading.  Ventilation  and  hygiene  were  insisted  on. 
During  her  time  the  college  passed  through  no  seri- 
ous illness.  Perhaps  she  took  more  care  of  the  health 
of  the  students  through  being  herself  a  physician's 
daughter. 

Providinc:  thus  for  the  internal  well-beincr  of  the 
college,  she  soon  began  to  study  its  relations  with 
the  outside  world.  In  those  days  Wellesley  was 
more  isolated  than  at  present.  Its  charming  hills 
and  woods  were  little  known.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Durant 
had  loved  modesty  more  than  advertising,  and  their 
college  came  into  existence  without  that  noise  which 
has  latterly  been  thought  appropriate  to  the  birth  of 
universities.  So  quiet  an  infancy  pleased  Miss  Free- 
man; but  as  the  college  grew,  she  resolved  to  bring 
it  into  closer  connection  with  other  colleges  and  with 
the  community  around.  This  attempt  made  one 
of  the  distinctive  features  of  her  administration.  Of 
course  her  attractive  personality  and  winning  speech 
opened  all  doors,  and  in  the  interest  of  Wellesley 
she  accepted  invitations  for  public  addresses  up  to 
the  hmits  of  her  strength.  In  different  parts  of  the 
country  she  helped  to  found  Wellesley  clubs.  To 
Wellesley  she  invited  whatever  notable  person  visited 
the  neighboring  cities.    In  her  last  year  more  than 


132  ALICE   FREEMAN   PALMER 

fifty  public  lectures  were  given  there,  and  half  as 
many  concerts.  Only  one  vacancy  occurred  in  the 
Board  of  Trustees  in  her  time,  but  she  reconstituted 
the  subordinate  board,  the  Board  of  Visitors,  and 
packed  it  with  experts,  who  brought  criticism  and 
encouragement  to  the  various  departments.  To 
enlarge  the  social  life  of  teachers  and  students,  she 
held  frequent  receptions  and  introduced  to  Wellesley 
the  men  and  women  of  Cambridge  and  Boston.  Into 
the  society  of  those  cities  she  herself  entered.  From 
Harvard  she  sometimes  borrowed  temporary  teachers 
and  with  that  university  she  soon  established  rela- 
tions which  a  certain  dislike  on  Mr.  Durant's  part 
for  his  alma  mater  had  prevented  from  being  earlier 
formed. 

Such  then  were  some  of  the  constructive  methods 
by  which  a  scholarly,  united,  and  admired  college 
was  rapidly  built  up.  Seeking  to  raise  the  rank  of 
Wellesley  until  it  should  equal  that  of  any  New 
England  college,  she  found  herself  hampered  by 
lack  of  fitting  schools,  by  a  loose  system  of  admission 
on  certificate,  by  lack  of  accommodation  in  college 
buildings  for  suitable  numbers,  and  by  consequent 
lack  of  funds.  She  found  her  teachers  too  few,  badly 
chosen  and  badly  paid,  burdened  with  excessive 
routine  work,  and  needing  to  be  more  solidly  organ- 
ized into  departments.  She  found  meagre  labora- 
tories and  library,  no  provision  for  physical  training, 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     133 

and  little  connection  between  the  college  and  the 
learned  and  social  world  outside.  At  the  close  of 
her  administration  these  deficiencies  had  disap- 
peared, without  leaving  debt  behind. 

This  truly  creative  work  was  accomplished  by 
substantially  the  methods  here  described.  There 
IS  nothing  striking  about  them.  They  cannot  be 
turned  into  attractive  reading.  Hearing  of  Miss 
Freeman's  brilliant  administration,  we  do  not  natu- 
rally think  of  measures  so  homespun  and  pains- 
taking. For  that  reason  I  have  lingered  lo.ig  on  this 
first  part  of  my  account,  trying  to  explain  the  dry  pro- 
fessional technicalities  over  which  her  young  years 
were  spent.  But  I  imagine  most  of  us  will  hardly 
be  interested  in  watching  the  work  of  an  architect's 
oflSce.  The  result  alone  engages  us.  All  beauty, 
however,  is  grounded  in  such  technicalities,  and 
originality  consists  in  finding  the  beauty  there. 
That  at  least  was  the  type  of  her  originality.  She 
was  no  revolutionist,  but  out  of  almost  any  humdrum 
and  disheartening  conditions  she  would  contrive 
to  evolve  life.  Or  do  I  wrong  her  in  speaking  of 
contrivance  ?  Was  it  rather  that  her  believing  and 
creative  mind  saw  nothing  of  what  others  counted 
humdrum  and  disheartening,  being  altogether  oc- 
cupied with  the  ideal  hid  within .''  It  may  be  so. 
She  took  her  duties  lightly  and  once  exclaimed  to 
the  president  of  another  college,  "Is  n't  it  fun  to  be 


134  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

a  president!"  When  I  applied  to  her  faithful  secre- 
tary for  information  about  the  perplexities  of  these 
opening  years,  I  received  the  following  reply:  "The 
thought  of  INIiss  Freeman's  feeling  any  perplexity  in 
her  position  at  Wellesley  seems  strange  to  me,  who 
knew  so  well  the  inner  life  of  the  office.  Underneath 
her  cheerfulness,  her  keen  sense  of  humor,  her 
thoughtfulness  for  others,  her  joy  in  all  that  makes 
life  lovely,  there  ran  a  current  of  confidence  and  un- 
hesitating trust  in  her  Heavenly  Father.  She  conse- 
quently never  appeared  perplexed.  The  presidency 
of  Wellesley  was  not  a  difficult  position  for  her.  In 
each  emergency  she  saw  by  intuition  the  right  course 
to  pursue."  But  that  she,  almost  the  first  of  woman 
presidents  and  with  little  in  the  past  for  a  guide, 
should  have  possessed  this  instinctive  discernment 
and,  youthful  and  ardent  though  she  was,  should 
have  known  that  it  is  the  plodding  path  which 
leads  to  glory,  must,  I  suppose,  indicate  in  her 
something  like  genius. 


A  cademic  Portrait 


vni 

THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY  (contlnued) 

The  account  of  Miss  Freeman's  career  at  Wellesley 
thus  far  given  is  obviously  unfair  and  incomplete : 
unfair  because  it  assumes  that  the  policies  described 
were  altogether  hers,  regardless  of  the  wise  and 
loyal  cooperation  of  her  fellow  trustees  and  profes- 
sors. Yet  this  unfairness  is  so  inevitable  that  it  will 
readily  be  pardoned.  We  are  obliged  to  say  that 
Wellington  won  Waterloo,  though  we  know  how 
helpless  he  would  have  been  without  the  courage  of 
the  undistinguished  soldier.  Miss  Freeman  always 
declared  that  the  rapid  rise  of  Wellesley  was  due  to 
a  multitude  of  causes  and  persons.  Of  course  it 
was,  a  multitude  directed  by  herself.  No  president 
ever  had  better  helpers ;  nor  they,  one  whom  it  was 
better  worth  while  to  help. 

But  in  calling  my  account  incomplete  I  speak  of 
something  of  larger  consequence,  and  to  repairing 
the  omission  I  devote  this  entire  chapter;  for  the 
administrative  measures  just  recounted  could  have 
had  no  such  effect  as  actually  followed  if  they  had  not 
been  supported  throughout  by  an  extraordinary 
personal  influence.  Personality  and  policies  together 


136  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

composed  Miss  Freeman's  power,  spirituality  and 
mechanics,  the  two  supplemental,  each  of  little  worth 
without  the  other.  To  considering  some  aspects  of 
that  pervasive  personal  influence  I  now  turn. 

In  the  first  place  Miss  Freeman  came  into  very 
close  contact  with  her  students.  She  lived  among 
them,  until  her  last  year  having  her  private  rooms 
in  immediate  connection  with  her  business  offices  in 
the  great  building.  Even  when  she  removed  to 
quieter  quarters  in  Norumbega  Cottage,  she  dined 
every  day  with  thirty  girls  and  talked  with  double  that 
number.  Each  morning  she  held  office  hours,  when 
any  student  could  consult  her  on  any  subject.  But 
she  did  not  shut  her  door  at  other  times,  and  a  large 
part  of  every  day  was  given  to  these  interviews.  In 
that  small  office  the  bent  of  many  a  life  has  been 
determined.  At  that  time  there  was  no  dean.  All 
the  care  of  the  students  fell  upon  her.  By  some  means 
she  managed  to  meet  most  of  them  soon  after  their 
arrival  and  to  turn  their  faces  in  the  right  direction. 
It  was  done  incidentally,  with  few  words,  and  quite 
as  a  matter  of  course.  A  student  writes  :  — 

"When  I  entered  Wellesley,  I  arrived  late  in  the 
afternoon  and  was  shown  to  my  room.  Soon  a  bell 
rang,  and  I  tried  to  find  the  dining  room.  I  went 
down  to  the  first  floor  and  wandered  to  the  south 
door.  There,  by  good  luck,  stood  Miss  Freeman, 
looking  out  over  the  lake.  Of  course  she  came  to  me 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     137 

at  once,  asked  who  I  was,  said  the  college  would 
be  good  to  me,  and  then  took  me  to  the  dining  room, 
talking  in  her  easy  cordial  fashion  all  the  way,  and 
found  a  place  for  me  at  one  of  the  tables.  I  wish 
I  could  remember  the  things  she  said.  I  only  recall 
the  strong  impression  of  her  kindness." 

When  a  girl  had  once  been  spoken  to,  however 
briefly,  her  face  and  name  were  fixed  on  a  memory 
where  each  incident  of  her  subsequent  career  found 
its  place  beside  the  original  record.  A  super- 
intendent of  education  sends  me  the  following 
instance :  — 

"Once  after  she  had  been  speaking  in  my  city, 
she  asked  me  to  stand  beside  her  at  a  reception.  As 
the  Wellesley  graduates  came  forward  to  greet  her 
—  there  were  about  eighty  of  them  —  she  said  some- 
thing to  each  which  showed  that  she  knew  her. 
Some  she  called  by  their  first  names;  others  she 
asked  about  their  work,  their  families,  or  whether 
they  had  succeeded  in  plans  about  which  they  had 
evidently  consulted  her.  The  looks  of  pleased  sur- 
prise which  flashed  over  the  faces  of  those  girls  I 
cannot  forget.  They  revealed  to  me  something  of 
Miss  Freeman's  rich  and  radiant  life.  For  though  she 
seemed  unconscious  of  doing  anything  unusual,  and 
for  her  I  suppose  it  was  usual,  her  own  face  reflected 
the  happiness  of  the  girls  and  showed  a  serene  joy 
in  creating  that  happiness." 


138  ALICE   FREEMAN   PALMER 

Probably  she  had  a  natural  aptitude  for  such  re- 
membrance, but  she  cultivated  it  also.  An  eminent 
journalist  writes:  "I  recall  a  memorable  conversa- 
tion I  once  had  with  her.  She  had  told  me  a  little 
of  the  means  she  took  in  getting  and  keeping  in 
mind  the  names  of  her  many  hundred  Wellesley 
girls,  and  I  said,  'That  is  something  I  never  could 
do.'  *Oh  yes,  you  could,'  she  replied,  'if  you  had  to. 
It  is  simply  that  you  never  had  to  do  it.  WTiatever 
we  have  to  do  we  can  always  do.'  This  quiet  con- 
fidence in  the  ability  to  do  what  needs  to  be  done 
seems  to  me  one  of  the  secrets  of  her  power.  She 
leaned  on  her  necessities,  instead  of  letting  herself  be 
broken  by  them ;  and  that  simple  disclosure  of  her 
method  has  greatly  added  to  the  power  of  my  life." 

But  in  her  close  contact  with  students,  pla}-ful 
though  it  often  was,  she  kept  her  dignity  and  her 
easy  power  of  command.  In  a  previous  chapter  I 
have  shown  how  important  for  the  young  college 
was  the  almost  despotic  control  exercised  by  Mr. 
Durant.  This  she  inherited,  and  in  her  own  way 
maintained.  She  tempered  it,  it  is  true,  with  singular 
sweetness,  usually  capturing  love  and  approval  be- 
fore obedience.  But  nevertheless,  her  will  was  law. 
Trustees,  Faculty,  and  students  alike  gave  it  a  pretty 
free  course.  All  felt  in  her  what  Kent  saw  in  Lear: 
"You  have  that  in  your  countenance  which  I  would 
fain  call   master."    This  was  well   understood  and. 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     139 

becoming  a  tradition,  tended  to  perpetuate  itself.  A 
gentleman  tells  me  that  when  he  attended  a  small  New 
England  College  he  found  some  of  the  regulations 
galling.  On  remonstrating  he  was  told,  "You  had 
better  go  to  Wellesley,  where,  whenever  the  little 
president  raises  her  hand,  the  whole  college  hurries 
to  obey."  Yet  her  authority  did  not  rest  on  bare  will; 
on  knowledge  rather,  on  sanity,  poise,  and  a  large 
way  of  handling  business. 

An  incidental  greatness  charactered 
Her  unconsidered  ways. 

An  instructive  anecdote  has  been  sent  me:  "There 
came  to  Wellesley  for  a  period  of  special  study  a 
woman  who  had  already  spent  several  years  in  teach- 
ing. She  was  nervous,  vain,  and  touchy,  easily  find- 
ing in  whatever  was  said  or  looked  some  covert  dis- 
paragement of  herself.  As  she  was  complaining  one 
day  of  some  recent  rudeness.  Miss  Freeman  said, 
'WTiy  not  be  superior  to  these  things  and  let  them  go 
unregarded .'  You  will  soon  find  you  have  nothing 
to  regard.'  'Miss  Freeman,'  retorted  Miss  S.,  'I 
wonder  how  you  would  like  to  be  insulted.'  Miss 
Freeman  drew  herself  up  with  splendid  dignity: 
*Miss  S.,  there  is  no  one  living  who  could  insult  me.' 
And  she  was  right.  Nobody  would  have  dared  do 
so.  But  had  they  attempted  it,  they  would  have 
found  her  altogether  beyond  their  reach/* 


140  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

I  cannot  discover  that  the  universal  worship 
marred  in  any  respect  her  simphcity  or  transferred 
her  attention  from  the  matter  in  hand  to  herself. 
She  took  it  lightly,  as  a  part  of  the  nature  of  things. 
Love  was  inherently  good,  and  people  should  prac- 
tice it.  I  think  she  would  have  been  disturbed  by  its 
absence.  Being  given,  she  did  not  dwell  upon  it  as 
due  to  herself,  but  chiefly  noticed  the  new  worth  it 
gave  the  giver.  Nobody  could  claim  love  as  by  right. 
I  have  often  heard  her  quote  George  Herbert's 
noble  line,  — 

Love  is  a  present  for  a  mighty  king. 

When  she  came  upon  a  specific  case  of  adoration 
it  humbled  her. 

Having,  then,  such  intimacy  with  the  students  and 
at  the  same  time  such  exaltation  above  them,  she 
was  in  the  best  position  to  call  on  them  for  aid  in  any 
exigency.  And  this  she  constantly  did,  letting  them 
understand  that  the  college  depended  on  them  for  its 
well-being,  and  that  they  were  to  cooperate  with  her 
in  keeping  it  sound.  Nobody  was  allowed  to  forget 
its  great  motto.  One  writes :  "During  my  last  winter 
an  epidemic  of  hysteria  seized  the  college,  chiefly 
the  freshmen.  There  were  frequent  screams  over 
trifles,  and  gossip  ran  riot.  Miss  Freeman  called  us 
seniors  together  and  said  she  held  us  responsible  for 
the  continuance  of  such  folly.    What  did  we  older 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     141 

girls  mean  by  allowing  an  atmosphere  where  such 
things  were  possible?    It  stopped." 

Or  again  :  "An  incident  showed  me  how  she  kept 
individual  students  in  mind  and  heart.  There  came 
to  college  from  my  city  an  eccentric,  lawless  girl, 
J.  L.  Before  her  lawlessness  was  fully  known 
Miss  Freeman  was  much  concerned  about  her, 
hearing  (she  always  did  hear  or  see  everything)  that 
J.  was  ostracized  and  unhappy.  There  were  many 
Kentucky  girls  in  college  then,  but  I  was  the  oldest 
of  them.  Miss  Freeman  accordingly  sent  for  me, 
told  me  frankly  that  she  was  worried  about  J.'s 
future,  and  said  that  if  she  was  to  be  made  into  a 
worthy  student  the  girls  must  help.  She  asked  me 
to  bring  the  other  Kentucky  girls  into  friendly  rela- 
tions with  J.  and  try  to  change  her  attitude.  We  did 
try,  but  it  was  useless.  J.  was  an  anarchist  from 
birth,  and  soon  left  college." 

One  morning  she  announced  at  prayers  that  she 
had  turned  "  some  girl  "  out  of  college,  and  did  n't 
wish  to  hear  of  her  again.  Lately,  when  silly  rumors 
had  been  flying  about  the  grounds  and  she  had  asked 
students  where  they  got  them,  they  had  said,  "Some 
girl  told  me."  That  girl  was  gone.  Hereafter  they 
need  n't  believe  anything  they  heard  from  a  person 
without  a  name.  One  winter  an  attempt  was  made 
to  blackmail  an  important  person  connected  with 
the  college.   Because  it  was  bravely  resisted,  serious 


142  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

scandal  was  threatened.  Before  the  papers  spoke, 
Miss  Freeman  called  her  girls  together,  told  them 
briefly  the  dastardly  story,  declared  it  false,  and  said 
she  should  rely  on  them  to  refuse  to  speak  of  it  either 
among  themselves  or  to  others.  The  newspapers 
thundered,  but  Wellesley  noticed  nothing.  It  was 
strangely  absorbed  in  its  own  pursuits. 

This  cooperative  method  was  even  applied  to  the 
single  student.  When  a  girl  brought  her  a  request 
which  she  could  not  grant,  she  seldom  gave  it  an 
immediate  refusal;  she  set  before  her  petitioner  the 
considerations  involved,  obliged  her  to  do  her  own 
thinking,  and  finally  to  suggest  as  of  herself  the  very 
settlement  which  Miss  Freeman  approved.  Amusing 
stories  are  reported  of  girls  who  came  to  ask  for 
something,  and  went  away  delighted  to  have  obtained 
the  opposite. 

One  of  them  says:  **In  the  spring  of  my  senior 
year  I  had  an  invitation  to  spend  the  holidays  in 
Washington,  and  my  family  strongly  urged  me  to 
arrange  the  visit.  Overjoyed,  I  went  to  Miss  Free- 
man to  obtain  permission  to  leave  college  several 
days  before  the  vacation.  She  was  very  warm, 
envying  me  the  prospect  of  seeing  the  Capitol  for 
the  first  time.  She  promised  to  ask  the  Faculty  for 
permission  and  to  state  to  them  how  great  the  op- 
portunity for  me  was.  But  she  inquired  how  many 
examinations  and  written  exercises  I   should  miss, 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     143 

incidentally  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
professors  would  have  to  give  me  special  ones  in 
the  following  term.  Gradually  I  felt  the  disadvan- 
tage of  this  irregularity.  Still,  there  was  Wash- 
inaton !  And  I  asked  if  she  herself  would  not  be 
tempted  to  go.''  Indeed  she  would,  she  said,  but 
college  work  was  the  nearest,  the  first,  business.  A 
Washington  invitation  might  come  again;  a  senior 
year  in  college,  never.  So,  quite  as  if  my  own  judg- 
ment had  been  my  guide,  I  decided  that  I  did  not 
want  to  go  to  Washington.  A  little  later,  when  the 
office  door  had  closed,  I  stopped  on  the  stairs  and 
asked  myself  if  this  was  the  same  person  who  had 
passed  there  half  an  hour  before,  and  what  had 
induced  me  to  give  up  the  coveted  journey  when 
there  was  no  hint  on  Miss  Freeman's  part  of  com- 
pulsion, much  less  of  refusal." 

College  presidents  are  sometimes  suspected  by 
students  of  prevarication  and  falsehood,  and  cer- 
tainly they  are  often  called  on  to  look  at  the  same 
subject  from  different  points  of  view.  But  her  girls 
knew  that  though  she  might  guide  them  skilfully, 
she  persistently  sought  their  interest.  Her  heart  was 
with  them.  She  was  an  obstinate  believer  in  their 
worth.  In  later  life,  as  we  walked  the  streets  of  a 
foreign  city,  she  would  often  be  seized  in  passing  by 
some  exclamatory  girl ;  and  when  after  too  long  delay 
I  disengaged  her  and  asked  who  this  tiresome  person 


144         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

was,  she  pretty  regularly  answered,  "Wliy,  don't  you 
know  Mary  X  ?  She  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
girls  we  ever  graduated  from  Wellesley."  They  all 
were,  and  the  hardy  faith  carried  both  her  and  them 
through  many  difficulties.  One  of  them  shall  de- 
scribe the  process: — 

"A  great  reason  for  her  strange  control  of  girls 
was,  I  think,  that  she  always  seized  on  some  good 
point  in  a  girl's  character,  emphasized  that,  and 
made  the  girl  feel  that  she  must  bring  the  whole  up 
to  the  level  of  this.  She  took  for  granted,  or  appeared 
to  do  so,  the  girl's  good  intentions.  Many  a  time  I 
have  heard  her  say  with  the  greatest  apparent  confi- 
dence to  some  wavering  girl, '  Of  course  you  could  n't 
do  anything  in  this  matter  that  is  untrue  or  unlady- 
like. That  would  be  quite  out  of  keeping  with  you.' 
And  the  wavering  girl  was  promptly  strengthened  in 
her  determination  to  do  the  right  thing  at  any  cost. 
The  same  method  was  worked  in  intellectual  ways. 
My  friend  Miss  M.  returned  to  Wellesley  after  a 
four  years'  absence,  hoping  to  complete  her  course 
in  a  year.  The  advanced  requirements  made  this 
difficult.  She  talked  over  the  situation  with  Miss 
Freeman,  feeling  greatly  discouraged  before  the 
interview.  Miss  Freeman  sketched  out  the  hard 
necessary  work  and  said,  'Now,  Miss  M.,  that  is 
what  I  call  a  stiff  schedule ;  but  with  your  habits  it  is 
possible  enough.'  Miss  M.  went  out  determined  not 
to  disappoint  her  confidence,  and  she  did  not." 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     145 

Sometimes  there  was  no  direct  appeal  to  a  better 
nature  in  the  one  who  sought  her  aid,  but  a  kind  of 
transmission  of  force  occurred  through  mere  contact. 
Virtue  went  out  from  her.  In  a  letter  received 
shortly  after  her  death  I  read :  — 

"Mrs.  Palmer  had  a  strange  effect  on  me.  When 
I  saw  her,  I  felt  as  if  I  could  do  things  that  I  never 
dreamed  of  before.  Even  now,  whenever  I  think  of 
her,  I  have  a  sense  of  dignity  in  my  life.  I  don't  know 
what  it  is.  It  seems  as  if  her  appreciation  of  the 
worth  of  things  puts  a  spirit  into  me  that  carries  me 
along  until  the  next  time  I  think  of  her.  I  should  n't 
care  to  go  on  in  a  world  in  which  she  had  n't  been." 

Probably  the  ennobling  atmosphere  which  seemed 
thus  to  radiate  from  her  presence  was  in  some  mea- 
sure connected  with  her  religious  faith.  She  believed 
that  conscious  fellowship  with  God  is  the  foundation 
of  every  strong  life,  the  natural  source  from  which  all 
must  derive  their  power  and  their  peace.  Hers  was  a 
dedicated  soul.  Mr.  Duraut  had  given  the  religious 
tone  to  Wellesley.  This  she  deepened,  diversified, 
and  freed  from  artificiality.  In  the  first  year  of  her 
presidency  she  reformed  the  methods  of  Bible  study, 
abolishing  the  daily  classes  to  which  no  serious  study 
was  given,  and  which  seemed  to  her  to  encourage 
sentimentality.  Instead,  she  put  into  each  year  of 
the  curriculum  two  hours  a  week  of  examinable  in- 
struction.   She  organized  a  Christian  Association  at 


146  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Wellesley,  but  refused  to  allow  it  to  become  affiliated 
with  organizations  elsewhere,  or  to  be  patterned  after 
any  narrow  type.  She  turned  it  into  a  veritable  col- 
lege church,  gathering  into  it  devout  souls  of  all  sorts, 
and  those  who  longed  to  be  devout,  until  its  ample 
organization  embodied  pretty  fully  the  spiritual 
aspirations  of  the  place.  To  it  she  transferred  her 
own  membership,  and  for  the  remainder  of  her  life 
she  belonged  to  no  other  church. 

I  am  not  aware  that  she  ever  conducted  chapel 
services  on  Sunday,  though  she  exercised  much  care 
in  selecting  those  who  did.  But  every  morning  she 
became  the  priestess  of  her  household,  regularly 
taking  charge  of  prayers,  and  delighting  so  to  begin 
the  day.  Attendance  was  then  required.  I  doubt  if 
one  student  less  would  have  been  present  had  there 
been  no  requisition.  For  all  knew  that  prayer  was 
her  supreme  expression;  they  felt  the  solemn  glow 
and  entered  with  her  into  a  divine  presence.  Her 
voice  throbbed  with  ardor,  insight,  and  self-efface- 
ment. In  simple  language  she  spoke  to  God  as  one 
who  had  known  God ;  and  of  her  girls  as  one  who 
understood  their  dreams,  joys,  and  perplexities.  I 
have  observed  that  persons  naturally  reserved  some- 
times express  their  inmost  minds  more  easily  in  pub- 
lic than  in  private.  They  are  sheltered  by  the  multi- 
tude. It  was  so  with  her,  who  rarely  referred  to 
religion  in  conversation.  Her  reedy  company  set  her 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     147 

free.  All  felt  her  love  and  genuineness,  and  wondered 
at  the  appropriateness  of  her  words.  It  was  com- 
monly believed  that  Miss  Freeman's  Bible  was  not 
the  ordinary  volume,  for  out  of  it  came  strange 
chapters,  extraordinarily  fitted  to  whatever  occasion 
arose.  Her  familiarity  with  it  was  large,  and  from 
that  storehouse  of  spiritual  experience  she  liked  to 
bring  together  passages  from  writers  of  different 
times  uttering  a  similar  thought  in  unlike  ways.  The 
morning  assembly,  too,  she  found  a  convenient  occa- 
sion for  addressing  the  whole  body  of  students  on 
matters  of  general  consequence. 

But  there  is  danger  in  the  religious  temper.  For 
some  persons  the  light  of  eternal  things  casts  a  shade 
over  the  temporal.  In  view  of  what  is  abiding  and 
august,  the  passing  interest  is  dulled.  This  danger 
even  besets  those  who  are  predominantly  moral. 
They  become  narrow,  heedless  of  what  cannot  at 
once  be  related  to  law;  while  momentary  matters, 
chance,  facts,  the  mere  happenings  of  our  hurly- 
burly  world,  do  not  joyously  engage  them.  This  is 
the  same  as  to  say  that  such  persons  frequently  lack 
humor  and  spontaneity  —  yes,  strongly  marked  in- 
dividuality. Of  course  deficiencies  quite  as  grave 
are  noticeable  in  those  who  follow  their  own  vagrant 
will  and  listen  to  the  call  of  the  instant.  They  are 
soon  found  unimportant  in  the  stress  of  serious 
affairs.    Yet  their  temperament  forms  a  necessary 


148  ALICE   FREEjVIAN  PALMER 

supplement  to  the  profounder  insights  of  the  austere. 
A  saintly  minister  of  my  acquaintance  on  being  asked 
why  he  was  going  to  Europe  for  the  summer,  wisely 
answered,  "To  de-moralize  myself."  We  queer 
human  creatures  cannot  fill  out  our  full  stature  till 
we  harmonize  within  us  contradictory  attributes. 

Such  splendid  contradictions  shone  in  Miss 
Freeman,  giving  her  access  to  persons  of  every  type 
and  imparting  to  herself  perpetual  freshness.  Cus- 
tom never  staled  her.  It  easily  might,  had  not  she 
been  she ;  for  she  was  called  to  set  a  woman's  college 
in  order.  I  have  shown  how  her  administration 
tended  everywhere  to  solidity  and  respect  for  law; 
how  she  herself  was  a  prodigious  force  for  righteous- 
ness among  her  girls.  Yet  this  seriousness  was  but 
one  aspect  of  her,  and  must  straightway  be  offset  in 
any  just  estimate  of  her  influence.  For  hers  was  essen- 
tially a  spontaneous  and  abounding  nature.  She 
found  her  way  to  an  important  issue  as  often  blindly 
as  through  calculation.  One  cannot  say  too  often 
how  impulsive  she  was,  sportive,  enchanted  with 
the  shifting  show,  the  swiftly  varj'ing  expressions  of 
her  face  telling  how  eagerly  she  followed  the  flight  of 
things  that  cannot  endure.  One  writes:  "I  doubt  if 
I  ever  knew  any  one  who  gave  me  so  strong  a  feeling 
of  the  pure  joy  of  living."  It  was  as  good  as  a  circus 
to  be  with  her,  for  something  novel  was  always  going 
on.    And  this   incessant  regard  for  the  small  and 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     149 

momentary  was  treated  as  altogether  honorable,  in 
herself  or  in  another.  She  was  no  dualist,  no  sepa- 
rator of  sacred  and  profane,  of  petty  and  profound. 
All  had  significance  and  found  their  fitting  place  in 
her  responsive  soul.  "One  flower,  one  tree,  one 
baby,  one  bird  singing,  or  one  little  village  would 
move  her  to  love  and  praise  as  surely  as  a  garden,  a 
forest,  a  university,  an  orchestra,  or  a  great  city."  I 
never  knew  one  who  more  fully,  with  William  Blake, 

Could  see  a  world  in  a  grain  of  sand, 
And  a  heaven  in  a  wild  flower; 

Hold  infinity  in  the  palm  of  the  hand, 
And  eternity  in  an  hour. 

Or  with  one  of  her  own  favorite  poets,  Henry 
Vaughan,  could  so  — 

Feel  through  all  this  fleshly  dress 
Bright  shoots  of  everlastingness. 

Such  exuberant  many-sided  life  was  of  peculiar 
consequence  in  the  work  to  which  she  was  called. 
It  was  hers  to  set  the  pattern  of  a  woman  president 
of  a  woman's  college.  In  private  life  we  prize  woman 
not  merely  for  her  priestly  qualities,  but  quite  as 
much  for  her  vivacity,  swiftness  of  perception,  ease 
in  being  pleased,  and  interested  acceptance  of  what 
each  moment  brings.  Should  these  fascinating  fea- 
tures of  traditional  womanhood  be  retained  on  her 
entrance  into  official  life,  or  should  they  be  crowded 


150  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

out  by  the  proprieties,  decorums,  and  conformities 
to  which  woman  is  also  prone?  AHce  Freeman 
showed  which  is  the  more  admirable,  which  the  more 
influential  too.  She  never  sank  her  own  variable 
personality  in  the  great  official.  She  kept  the  child- 
like in  the  larger  mind.  By  thus  remaining  truly  a 
woman  she  protected  womanliness  among  her  stu- 
dents. Through  her,  freedom  and  naturalness  per- 
vaded Wellesley.  Bounteously  original  herself,  she 
fostered  whatever  special  quality  those  about  her 
possessed  and  taught  it  to  come  forth  with  grace  and 
helpfulness.  Girls  are  easily  crushed  or  starved. 
Nowhere  is  wealth  of  nature  more  important  than  in 
their  leader.  Perhaps,  too,  respect  for  temperamental 
differences  was  not  at  that  time  so  generally  prac- 
tised as  it  happily  is  now. 

Obviously,  however,  a  great  personality  cannot 
be  cut  up  into  sections  and  listed.  I  may  seem  to  have 
attempted  something  of  the  sort  in  successively  set- 
ting down  these  modes  of  her  personal  influence. 
But  that  would  be  to  disintegrate  and  falsify  one 
who  through  all  her  variety  was  always  the  same 
beautiful  whole.  All  I  have  desired  is  to  trace  a  few 
of  the  channels  through  which  that  curious  influence 
ran.  Thus  I  have  shown  in  what  close  contact  with 
her  girls  she  lived,  though  preserving  always  her  dis- 
tinction and  her  power  of  instantaneous  command ; 
how  she  summoned  them  to  cooperate  with  her, 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     151 

made  them  feel  that  it  was  their  college  no  less  than 
hers,  and  called  on  them  to  keep  it  vigorous  and 
sweet;  how  in  dealing  with  individuals  she  paid  at- 
tention to  whatever  was  excellent  in  them  and  let 
the  poorer  parts  pretty  much  alone ;  how  she  treated 
them  all  as  children  of  God  who  longed  for  a  fuller 
embodiment  of  Him  in  their  daily  lives;  how  she  even 
respected  spontaneous  nature  and  did  not  in  the 
interest  of  a  strained  spirituality  repress  the  happy 
waywardness  of  herself  or  her  girls.  But  I  am  not 
so  simple  as  to  suppose  that  by  this  summary  I 
have  explained  her,  or  that  the  methods  here  toil- 
somely enumerated  can  be  codified  in  the  next  hand- 
book of  pedagogics  and  used  by  any  newly  elected 
presitlent.  Properly  speaking,  these  are  not  methods 
at  all.  They  are  merely  her  ways,  the  natural  ex- 
pressions of  a  unique  human  being  who  was  not 
afraid  of  herself  or  of  obstacles,  but  ruled,  loved, 
planned,  enjoyed,  and  builded  as  best  she  could,  with 
little  help  from  past  experience  and  with  little  con- 
sciousness of  doing  anything  remarkable.  Just  nine 
years  after  she  entered  the  university  as  a  student 
she  became  president.  Wlien  she  retired,  after  her 
extraordinary,  brief,  but  durable  success,  she  was 
only  a  little  older  than  the  youngest  college  president 
who  has  ever  taken  ofiice  elsewhere.  The  mysterious 
power  of  characterful  youth  had  more  than  counter- 
balanced the  deficient  age.  Long  ago  Isaiah  remarked 


152  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

that  "a  child  may  die  an  hundred  years  old ;  but  the 
sinner  being  an  hundred  years  old  shall  be  accursed." 
In  this  analysis  of  her  work  at  WcUesley  I  have  not 
paused  to  relate  events  of  her  own  life.  In  reality 
there  were  none.  Her  life  was  merged  in  that  of  the 
college.  One  of  her  days  was  much  like  another. 
At  Norumbega  she  took  breakfast  in  her  room, 
selecting  then  the  hymn  and  Scripture  for  the  day. 
Prayers  followed  at  8.30.  Afterwards  she  attended 
to  her  mail  and  held  ofBce  hours  for  consultation 
with  students.  These  were  usually  prolonged  through 
the  morning,  so  that  she  rarely  returned  to  her  rooms 
at  noon,  unless  to  bring  visitors,  but  took  her  luncheon 
in  the  main  building.  Afternoons  were  occupied 
with  letters,  callers,  inspection  of  grounds,  buildings, 
or  departments,  with  interviews  with  teachers  and 
parents,  or  with  yet  more  students.  Time  too  must 
be  found  for  the  occasional  meetings  of  Trustees  and 
Faculty,  for  seeing  people  in  Boston,  or  for  a  public 
address.  She  tried  to  dine  at  home.  When  she  did, 
she  threw  off  all  care  and  devoted  herself  more  to 
the  girls  at  her  table  than  to  her  food,  telling  amusing 
stories  and  inciting  those  still  better.  After  dinner 
she  would  take  part  in  the  merriment  which  usually 
preceded  study  hours.  But  quite  as  often  she  was 
unable  to  return  to  Norumbega  till  ten  or  eleven 
at  night.  Then  she  took  a  light  lunch,  read  a 
while,  —  by  preference  poetry,  —  and  was  soon  in 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     153 

bed.  She  was  always  a  sound  sleeper,  and  more 
dependent  on  sleep  than  food. 

Twice  a  year  she  tried  to  visit  her  parents  in  ISIichi- 
gan,  and  usually  succeeded  in  giving  them  a  few 
weeks.  But  having  no  dean  to  represent  her  at 
Wellesley,  she  was  much  confined  there  and  through- 
out her  presidency  took  only  one  considerable  vaca- 
tion. This  was  in  1884.  In  that  year  an  important 
International  Conference  on  Education  was  held 
in  London,  to  which  she  was  appointed  one  of  three 
American  delegates.  She  had  become  much  exhausted 
with  work,  and  was  advised  that  a  voyage  would 
invigorate  her.  In  company  with  her  father  she  saw 
England  for  the  first  time,  addressing  the  Conference 
in  a  speech  which  Henry  Sidgwick  pronounced  the 
best  given  there  (Life  and  Letters,  p.  384),  and  after- 
wards spending  a  few  restful  weeks  at  the  English 
Lakes.  In  all,  she  was  absent  from  Wellesley  two 
months. 

In  1887  Columbia  University,  in  New  York  City, 
at  its  centennial  celebration,  conferred  on  her  the 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Letters;  Union  University,  at 
its  centennial  in  1896,  that  of  Doctor  of  Laws. 
She  became  a  Doctor  of  Philosophy  at  jNIichigan 
in  1882.  Since  her  death,  in  recognition  of  the  work 
described  in  this  chapter,  Wellesley  graduates  have 
endowed  their  presidency  with  a  fund  which  bears 
her  name. 


154  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALINIER 

I  add  a  few  letters  which  have  been  sent  me  it 
further  illustration  of  her  Wellesley  ways. 

LETTERS 

It  is  impossible  for  the  girls  of  later  days,  of  more 
perfect  organization  and  more  divided  responsibil- 
ity, to  realize  how  in  that  early  time  the  whole  college 
depended  on  this  one  personality.  What  she  thought 
and  said  and  did  was  the  heart  and  centre  of  what 
the  college  thought  and  said  and  did.  It  would  have 
been  dangerous  for  one  person  to  have  so  much  power 
had  not  that  person  been  Miss  Freeman.  What  she 
was  is  best  proved  by  what  the  place  became. 
Through  her  administration  Wellesley  developed  into 
a  fully  equipped  college,  thoroughly  organized  and 
efficiently  conducted,  known  to  all  the  world.  How- 
ever much  the  W^ellesley  ideal  may  have  grown 
through  longer  experience  and  wider  opportunities, 
we  shall  always  owe  to  Miss  Freeman  the  establish- 
ment of  the  type. 

How  she  worked  that  year  of  her  vice-presidency ! 
Her  interest  in  her  own  special  department,  that  of 
history,  could  not  be  given  up.  She  had  planned 
a  course  for  those  brought  that  year  to  the  college  — 
teacher  specials  —  and  she  must  see  it  through , 
and  she  did.  But  how  she  toiled  to  conquer  those 
old  girls'  diffidence,  their  previous  lack  of  any  and 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     155 

every  training !  How  she  labored  to  wake  them  up  to 
possibilities  of  study  and  research !  How  she  strove 
to  impart  to  them  her  zeal  and  enthusiasm ! 

Her  memory  for  names  and  faces  was  phenome- 
nal. On  my  second  visit  to  her  office  I  volunteered 
my  name  and  was  met  with  the  quick  response, 
"Yes,  I  know."  It  was  said  that  by  the  end  of  the 
first  week  of  the  college  year  she  knew  every  one  of 
her  girls  by  name,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  her  to 
recognize  them  at  all  times,  within  doors  or  without. 

So  blind  she  was  to  our  shortcomings,  so  unerring 
in  finding  the  good  that  was  in  us !  Gentle,  womanly, 
responsive,  and  enthusiastic,  with  a  genius  for  friend- 
ship and  aflFection,  she  has  sent  uncounted  numbers 
of  us  from  her  presence  inspired  to  do  the  thing 
which  was  at  the  highest  limit  of  our  powers.  It 
was  her  unshakable  belief  in  the  best  side  of  our 
natures  that  made  her  optimism  inspiring.  In  the 
heat  of  her  intense  idealism  every  objecting,  hinder- 
ing doubt  was  fused  into  a  passion  to  do  the  work 
she  knew  we  could  do.  Who  of  us  will  ever  forget 
that  flexible  and  endearing  voice,  or  the  beauty  which 
poured  from  her  smile,  look,  and  gesture  ? 

I  had  never  been  away  from  home  until  I  went  to 
Wellesley,  and  I  was  desperately  homesick.  At  noon 


156  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

the  second  day  I  wandered  after  luncheon  into  the 
centre  and  sat  down  on  a  stair  by  the  pahns.  I  wanted 
to  die.  Just  then  a  troop  of  people  came  toward  me 
in  animated  talk.  One  of  them,  a  lady  young  and 
beautiful,  was  speaking  most  eagerly.  As  they  passed 
me,  she,  without  pausing  in  what  she  was  saying, 
turned  and  poured  her  kind  eyes  right  into  mine.  I 
felt  a  new  life  come  in.  It  would  be  good  to  be  any- 
where, I  thought,  if  she  were  there.  The  next  morn- 
ing I  went  to  chapel.  She  was  at  the  desk.  I 
whispered  to  my  neighbor  and  learned  that  it  was  the 
president.     I  was  not  homesick  again. 

On  my  way  to  Wellesley  for  the  first  time  I  put 
myself  under  the  care  of  Professor  C.  and  went  to 
the  college  with  her.  She  took  me  to  her  own  sitting- 
room,  which  she  shared  with  Miss  Freeman.  The 
burst  of  welcome  from  Miss  Freeman  for  her  friend 
was  irresistible  and  brought  tears  to  my  eyes.  After 
the  first  greetings  were  over.  Miss  Freeman  turned  in 
her  bright  impulsive  way  to  the  little  stranger,  drew 
me  into  the  circle,  and  began  to  help  me  off  with  my 
wraps.  From  the  conversation,  I  gathered  that  she 
had  not  been  well  enough  to  "go  on"  for  a  class- 
mate's wedding  and  was  eager  to  hear  an  account  of 
it  from  Miss  C.  But  this  did  not  check  her  service  to 
me.  I  was  taken  to  her  own  bedroom,  given  fresh 
towels,  and  cared  for  in  every  way.    It  was  such 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     157 

a  gracious  thing,  that  welcome  of  Miss  Freeman  at 
such  a  time  to  a  little  stranger  who  might  so  easily 
have  been  turned  over  to  others !  The  rest  of  the 
time  I  was  at  Wellesley  (I  left  the  following  Novem- 
ber, from  illness)  I  saw  Miss  Freeman  only  at  rare 
intervals.  That  one  brief,  bright  glimpse  is  my  per- 
manent remembrance  of  her. 

At  one  of  the  Faculty  meetings  in  the  first  years  of 
her  presidency,  when  some  grave  academic  questions 
were  being  discussed  without  much  prospect  of  being 
brought  to  a  conclusion.  Miss  Freeman  was  called 
to  the  door  and  found  there  the  housekeeper  of 
Dana  Hall,  who  had  insisted  on  seeing  Miss  Freeman. 
She  had  a  carriage  waiting  to  take  her  to  Dana  Hall 
to  see  the  dress  rehearsal  of  a  French  comedy  which 
was  soon  to  be  given.  The  humor  of  the  situation 
struck  Miss  Freeman.  Returning  to  the  room,  she 
announced  to  the  assembled  professors  that  she  had 
been  called  away  on  pressing  business  for  an  hour, 
and  requested  one  of  them  to  take  the  chair.  Glee- 
fully she  drove  to  Dana  Hall,  flashed  in  at  the  per- 
formance, laughed  steadily  for  half  an  hour,  and 
came  back  to  the  tired  Faculty,  blithe  and  breezy, 
to  swing  the  discussion  on  to  a  prompt  conclusion. 

Miss  Freeman  gave  a  series  of  talks  to  us  seniors 
who  intended  to  teach.  They  were  frank  discussions 


158  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

of  the  problems  we  should  encounter  and  the  right 
ways  of  meeting  them.  Nowadays  they  would  prob- 
ably be  "pedagogy;"  then  they  were  simply  "talks." 
She  always  tried  to  show  both  sides  of  a  picture.  On 
one  occasion  she  told  of  a  letter  she  had  just  received 
from  the  head  of  a  school,  asking  for  a  new  teacher. 
The  former  one  had  broken  her  contract  and  left 
her  position  in  the  middle  of  the  year,  in  order  to  be 
married.  After  condemning  the  lack  of  honor  shown, 
and  saying  it  was  a  case  where  "woman's  citadel, 
her  affections,  became  her  weakness,"  she  went  on 
to  speak  of  the  requirements  demanded  of  the  new 
candidate :  she  must  be  pleasing  in  person,  highly 
trained  intellectually,  socially  and  morally  an  all- 
round  example  to  her  students,  and  would  have  a 
salary  of  $600.  "I  wrote  the  man,"  she  said,  "that 
at  present  we  have  no  six-hundred-dollar  angel." 

When  ill  tidings  came  to  a  fellow  student  it  eased 
the  aching  hearts  of  her  friends  to  know  that  Miss 
Freeman  had  gone  to  her.  And  when  it  fell  to  the 
president  to  report  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  one  girl, 
I  am  sure,  will  never  forget  the  hearty  handshake 
and  evident  feeling  with  which  she  said,  "I  wanted 
to  tell  you  myself  how  glad  I  am  for  you." 

That    indefinable    quality    called    "magnetism' 
was  in  all  her  public  utterances.    People  hstened 
spellbound,  variously  ascribing  their  interest  to  her 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     159 

charm  of  manner  or  her  brilHancy  in  command  of 
language.  She  never  permitted  the  daily  chapel  exer- 
cise to  become  irksome  or  distasteful.  It  meant  much 
to  her  personally,  and  she  made  it  much  to  those  who 
listened.  There  are  hymns  which  many  old  Wellesley 
girls  never  read  or  sing  but  the  remembrance  of  Miss 
Freeman  comes  to  them.  The  tenderness  of  the  first 
epistle  of  John  has  ever  meant  more  to  them  because 
she  read  from  it  so  lovingly.  Her  simple,  earnest 
words  of  prayer  went  through  the  day's  hard  work 
and  smoothed  its  perplexities.  If  she  were  absent 
from  morning  prayers,  there  was  distinct  disappoint- 
ment. And  following  from  day  to  day  the  varied 
petitions  which  suited  the  needs  of  this  large  body  of 
students,  one  wondered  that  no  stereotyped  phrases 
or  even  repetitions  came  from  her  lips. 

The  portrait  in  the  art  gallery  at  Wellesley,  ideally 
beautiful  as  it  surely  is,  does  not  satisfy  the  old  girls ; 
it  falls  inevitably  short  of  the  remembrance  of  her, 
cherished  for  many  years. 

The  full-length  portrait  of  Mrs.  Palmer  by  Ab- 
bott Thayer,  which  Professor  Horsford  presented  to 
Wellesley  in  1890,  embodies  a  beautiful  ideal  of  purely 
womanly  womanhood.  The  painting  might  be 
prized  as  a  picture  of  the  eternal  feminine,  and  evi- 
dently was  painted  as  such  co7i  amore  by  the  artist. 
If  it  were  simply  of  an  artist's  model,  and  one  did 


160  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

not  know  the  name  of  the  subject,  the  canvas  would 
be  a  charming  one.  The  almost  childlike  expression 
of  ingenuous  appeal,  the  great  eyes  and  sensitive 
mouth,  the  modesty  of  expression,  full  of  dignity 
nevertheless,  as  are  also  the  virginal  white  robes,  the 
whole  attitude  as  if  of  surprise  and  deprecation  at 
being  thus  painted  as  a  personage,  are  in  reality  not 
the  artist's  dream,  the  fancy  sketch  of  a  type  of 
feminine  loveliness  and  sweetness,  but  the  president 
of  Wellesley  College  herself,  —  and  every  inch  a 
president, — with  intellectual  powers  trained  to  the 
utmost. 

I  doubt  if  any  one  can  appreciate  her  pictures  who 
fails  to  supplement  them  with  that  instantaneous 
illumination  which  came  to  her  face  the  moment  she 
spoke.  It  was  a  kind  of  inner  light  which  I  have 
never  seen  on  any  other  face  of  man  or  woman. 

When  some  girls  had  been  talking  foolishly,  though 
apparently  half  aware  that  what  they  said  was  folly, 
she  told  them  to  stop,  and  added,  "I'm  glad  I  never 
was  a  girl." 

She  said,  "Susan,  you  care  too  much  about  things; 
take  them  less  seriously.  The  best  of  them  won't  run 
away." 

She  told  me,  "They  hated  me  when  I  first  came  to 
Wellesley.  I  had  charge  of  the  work  in  the  dining 
room  and  I  made  the  girls  attend  to  it.    They  had 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     161 

fallen  into  slack  ways  and  resisted.  But  hate  does  n't 
last  long  in  good  girls.'* 

One  day  I  went  to  her  in  great  indignation:  "The 
doctor  says  I  must  go  home,  and  I  don't  want  to." 
"Very  well,"  she  said,  "it  is  n't  I  who  send  you.  So 
don't  let  us  fall  out  about  it.  Sit  down,  talk  it  over, 
and  let  us  see  if  we  can  plan  to  persuade  the  doctor 
to  change  his  mind."  As  it  gradually  appeared  that 
I  must  go  and  must  be  quiet  for  a  time,  she  said,  "It 
requires  more  courage  to  meet  the  daily  tasks  of  a 
dull  life  than  to  rise  for  a  moment  to  a  great  occasion. 
Don't  you  think  it  would  be  easier  to  submit  to  a 
surgical  operation,  and  be  done  with  it,  than  to  sit 
still  for  a  year  and  have  some  one  stick  pins  into 

you?" 

A  certain  senior  of  my  class  was  habitually  late  at 
chapel.  For  a  time  this  passed  unnoticed.  One 
morning,  after  everybody  else  was  seated  and  the 
hymn  was  about  to  be  given  out,  this  senior  opened 
the  door.  Miss  Freeman  fixed  her  eyes  on  her,  fol- 
lowed her  with  them  all  the  way  down  the  aisle  until 
she  took  her  place  in  the  middle  of  the  front  row. 
''Now,"  said  she,  "we  will  sing  the  164th  hymn." 
The  rebuke  of  her  eyes  and  her  emphasis  were  not  to 
be  forgotten.  That  was  all  she  ever  said  about  the 
matter,  but  it  did  not  occur  again. 


162  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

One  year  many  of  us  grew  lazy  and  fell  into  the 
habit  of  sitting  during  the  hymn.  One  morning 
Miss  Freeman  said  quietly,  but  with  her  own  look 
of  humorous  determination,  "We  will  rise  and  sing 
the  23d  hymn  —  'Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus.'" 
Of  course  we  rose,  and  kept  on  rising.  Equally  of 
course  we  were  diverted  by  the  cleverness  which 
made  any  chiding  word  unnecessary. 

Her  self-control  was  instantaneous.  As  a  little 
child,  she  had  been  frightened  by  seeing  a  cat  in  a 
fit,  and  she  had  ever  after  an  instinctive  aversion  to 
cats.  One  morning  at  the  chapel  service,  when  she 
was  leading  the  prayer  with  her  eyes  closed,  a  cat 
strayed  upon  the  platform,  jumped  to  her  chair,  and 
then  to  the  desk  upon  her  folded  hands.  Without  the 
least  quiver  of  voice  to  indicate  that  she  had  noticed 
anything,  and  without  opening  her  eyes,  she  laid  a 
hand  upon  the  cat,  pressed  her  gently  down  until  the 
prayer  was  ended,  then  just  before  the  last  word 
quietly  dropped  her  to  the  floor. 

She  raised  the  money  for  the  building  of  a  new 
dormitory,  but  there  was  great  delay  in  finishing  it. 
The  contractors  were  late,  the  workmen  dawdled. 
Finally  she  went  to  the  director  of  the  works  and 
quietly  said,  "We  move  into  this  building  on  such  a 
day.'*    He  answered,  "Impossible.    It  will  not  be 


THE   WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     163 

finished."  "We  shall  be  sorry  to  inconvenience  your 
workmen,  but  we  move  on  that  day."  The  director 
stormed,  made  remarks  about  "ignorant  women, 
unsexing  themselves  by  trying  to  boss  men."  But 
wonders  were  accomplished,  and  on  the  day  in  ques- 
tion we  moved  in  with  comparatively  little  left  to  be 
dene. 

An  Englishman  came  to  the  college  one  day.  After 
inspecting  it  pretty  fully  and  admiring  its  beauty, 
completeness,  and  cheerful  effect  on  its  students,  he 
was  still  perplexed  by  its  strangeness  and  by  the 
readjustment  of  social  conditions  which  it  seemed  to 
imply.  "But,  Miss  Freeman,"  he  inquired,  "will  not 
the  four  years  here  interfere  with  a  girl's  chances  ?  " 
"Possibly  they  will,"  Miss  Freeman  answered,  "her 
chances  with  men  of  a  certain  type.  But  I  don't 
believe  she  will  mind." 

Walking  with  her  once,  I  said,  "Miss  Freeman, 
there  is  a  quality  I  long  to  possess  more  than  any 
other,  and  that  is  tact.  Probably  it  is  inborn.  Cer- 
tainly it  is  very  difficult  to  acquire.  But  you  are  the 
most  tactful  person  I  ever  knew.  Can't  you  give  me 
some  hint  to  help  me  a  little  toward  tactfulness .'' " 
Unassumingly  she  disclaimed  any  such  power.  She 
wished  she  had  it.  She  had  tried  to  get  it,  and  had 
been  encouraged  to  do   so  bv  a  former  teacher.    A 


164  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

teacher  of  her  girlhood  had  told  her  about  the  impor- 
tance of  tact  and  had  said  that  a  good  way  to  gain  it 
was  to  care  more  about  the  person  we  are  dealing  with, 
and  the  end  we  seek,  than  about  gaining  that  end  by 
our  special  means.  In  working  with  others,  he 
believed  we  often  reach  our  end  soonest  if  we  are 
willing  to  set  aside  the  way  we  know  to  be  best  and 
let  others  take  the  way  they  like  best.  So  long  as  they 
are  moving  in  our  direction, and  we  are  keeping  close 
to  them,  he  thought  we  ought  to  be  satisfied. 

My  mother  likes  to  recall  the  Sunday  vesper  ser- 
vice just  before  I  graduated.  Mother  was  a  really 
great  singer,  with  a  reputation  in  England  for  ora- 
torio solo  work.  She  sang  always,  whenever  she 
could  give  pleasure  to  anybody.  The  college  kept  her 
pretty  busy  during  her  week  there.  That  Sunday 
night  Miss  Freeman  sat  far  back  in  the  chapel.  As 
mother  left  the  room,  she  came,  like  an  impulsive 
child,  and  threw  her  arms  around  mother's  neck  and 
told  her  tearfully  what  the  music  had  meant  to  her. 
I  have  always  thought  that  her  power  lay  partly  in 
her  presentation  of  the  child  in  connection  with  the 
forceful  woman. 

My  first  glimpse  of  her  was  in  my  senior  year= 
College  did  not  begin  till  the  morrow,  and  we  were 
having  a  royal  time  over  home  boxes  and  summer 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     165 

news,  when  some  one  reported  that  we  had  a  new 
professor  of  history,  that  she  was  to  be  our  senior 
class  ojBBcer,  and  that  now  was  a  propitious  time  to 
make  her  acquaintance  and  test  her  quality.  A  dele- 
gation waited  on  her  and  brought  her,  youthful  as 
the  youngest  of  us,  bright,  alert,  charming  —  her 
fine,  soft,  brown  hair  combed  back  from  her  brow 
to  a  dainty  coil  behind,  escaping  in  waves,  making 
merry  with  itself  here  and  there,  her  round,  full  face 
shining  with  delight  to  be  counted  one  of  us.  She 
won  us  then  and  there,  and  forever. 

I  did  not  see  her  from  that  time,  when  she  appeared 
in  all  her  youthful  beauty  and  freshness,  until  after 
the  first  year  of  her  presidency.  It  was  only  three 
years  as  men  count  time,  but  many  years  had  elapsed 
if  we  reckon  what  had  been  accomplished.  A  greater 
Wellesley  had  been  evolved,  and  our  lady  showed 
marks  of  the  effort.  I  looked  at  her  twice  before  I, 
her  warm  and  intimate  companion  of  three  years 
before,  recognized  her.  Her  hair  was  smoothly 
parted.  She  had  donned  some  sort  of  lace  arrange- 
ment ;  for  at  twenty-seven  and  as  president  of  a  col- 
lege one  needs  external  signs  of  age  —  though  all  this 
was  soon  abandoned.  The  evolution  of  the  new 
Wellesley  had  drawn  lines  over  the  round,  mobile  face, 
lines  of  character,  of  strength,  lines  to  be  welcomed, 
for  they  stood  for  development  and  growth.  She 
was  changed  and  Wellesley  was  changed.    She  had 


166  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

reached  out  her  hand  and  spanned  the  distance 
between  Wellesley  and  Boston,  between  Wcllcsley 
and  Cambridge.  We  were  no  longer  sufficient  to  our- 
selves, shut  away  from  the  larger  life  at  our  doors, 
narrow,  constrained,  dogmatic,  exclusive.  At  a 
bound  our  infancy  was  left  behind.  It  is  marvelous 
to  look  back  upon  the  inspired  intelligence  with 
which  she  guided  Wellesley  through  that  rapid 
development. 

Some  of  the  loudest  mourners  over  her  departure 
from  Wellesley  were  the  little  children  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, for  whom  from  time  to  time  she  used  to 
hold  "baby  parties"  on  the  college  green.  One  little 
fellow  of  four  uttered  his  lamentation  so  freshly  that 
she  cherished  the  remembrance  of  it.  When  his 
mother  told  him  that  Miss  Freeman  was  going  away 
from  Wellesley,  he  broke  into  convulsive  sobs;  nor 
could  he  be  quieted  with  assurances  that  she  was  not 
going  far  away,  but  would  be  very  near,  at  Cambridge, 
where  he  might  sometimes  see  her.  "No,  no, 
mama!"  he  cried,  "You  don't  understand.  It  is  n't 
the  farness  nor  the  nearness  that  I  mind.  It's  the 
ne  ver-the-sameness . ' ' 

Every  place  connected  with  her  is  filled  with  her 
joyous  vitality.  Here  I  see  her  writing  letters,  running 
down  the  hall;  can  catch  her  laugh,  and  her  excite 


MONUMENT  IN  MEMORY  OF  MRS.  PALMER 


Designed  by  Daniel  Chester  Frencli 

Erected  in  Wellesley  College  Chapel  by 

Edwiu  Hale  Abbot 


THE  WELLESLEY  PRESIDENCY     167 

ment  over  the  interests  of  others.  I  recall  how,  when 
I  went  into  a  rooni  where  she  was,  she  seemed  the 
whole  thing;  and  that  when  she  went  out,  there  was 
nothing  left.  As  often  as  I  think  of  her,  I  am  ashamed 
of  not  being  always  hopeful  and  happy. 

We  loved  her  for  the  loving  thoughts  which  sped 

Straight  from  her  heart,  until  they  found  their  goal 

In  some  perplexed  or  troubled  human  soud, 
And  broke  anew  the  ever  living  bread. 
We  loved  the  mind  courageous,  which  no  dread 

Of  failure  ever  daunted,  whose  control 

Of  gentleness  all  opposition  stole ; 
We  loved  herself  and  all  the  joy  she  shed. 
O  Leader  of  the  Leaders!   Like  a  light 

Thy  life  was  set,  to  counsel,  to  befriend. 
Thy  quick  and  eager  insight  seized  the  right 

And  shared  the  prize  with  bounteous  hand  and  free 

Fed  from  the  fountains  of  infinity 
Thy  life  was  service,  having  love  to  spend. 

President  Caroline  Hazard. 


IX 

MARRIAGE 

In  his  delightful  "Theory  of  the  Moral  Senti- 
ments" Adam  Smith  points  out  that  each  of  us  has 
certain  emotions  so  entirely  his  own  that  to  talk  of 
them  in  public  is  improper.  Suitable  enough  in  them- 
selves, they  are  not  suitable  for  conversation.  For 
the  law  of  good  manners  is  dictated  by  the  possi- 
bility of  sympathy.  To  express  to  another  person 
feelings  which  are  so  little  his  that  he  cannot  fully 
sympathize  with  them  is  to  be  rude  to  him  and  inde- 
cent as  regards  oneself.  With  this  principle  cultivated 
society  is  substantially  in  accord  and  sharply  resents 
disclosures  of  private  joys  and  sorrows.  It  is  true 
we  give  license  to  poets  and  novelists,  and  praise 
them  in  proportion  as  they  reveal  the  intimacies  of 
the  human  heart.  But  it  is  the  universal  human 
heart,  and  not  the  special  operations  of  John's  or 
Susan's,  which  they  reveal.  Only  as  one's  own  expe- 
rience is  typical  of  that  of  others  should  it  be  made 
public. 

That  marriage  is  a  matter  more  of  private  than  of 
public  concern  is  obvious;  for  while  its  larger  emo- 
tions and  circumstances  are  as  generally  apprehen- 


]\L\RRIAGE  169 

sible  as  other  events  of  the  day,  these  are  tinged 
throughout  with  what  Adam  Smith  calls  "a  peculiar 
turn  of  imagination,"  which  is  the  lover's  own  and 
cannot  be  shared  without  a  kind  of  impiety.  I  should 
naturally,  therefore,  pass  Miss  Freeman's  marriage 
by  with  a  bare  record,  if  it  did  not  present  certain 
typical  features  and  involve  problems  of  general 
public  concern.  It  excited  much  debate  at  the  time, 
and  probably  influenced  more  people  for  good  or  ill 
than  any  other  event  of  her  life.  Its  hopes,  courage, 
and  sacrifices  show  the  largeness  of  her  woman- 
hood. These  aspects  of  it  I  must  set  forth.  A  bio- 
graphy which  attempts  to  trace  the  inner  growth  of 
that  beautiful  character  must  give  to  this  a  central 
place. 

Professor  Horsford  of  Cambridge  was  an  early 
friend  of  Mr.  Durant's.  He  became  chairman  of  the 
board  of  visitors  of  the  college  and  one  of  its  most 
frequent  benefactors.  Over  Miss  Freeman  he 
watched  with  a  father's  tenderness.  To  his  house 
she  often  came,  and  largely  through  him  she  be- 
came known  in  Cambridge.  Her  administration  of 
Wellesley  was  much  admired  there.  I  had  heard 
her  praises  sung  for  several  years  before  I  met  her  at 
Professor  Horsford 's  house  in  1884.  In  1886,  when 
I  was  publishing  some  papers  on  the  elective  sys- 
tem, I  came  to  know  her  better,  especially  as  in  that 
year  I  gave  a  course  of  lectures  at  Wellesley.   During 


170  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

the  summer  of  1886  Mrs.  Governor  Claflin  and  slie 
visited  Boxford,  my  country  home.  From  that  time 
our  intimacy  ripened  rapidly  until  on  her  thirty- 
second  birthday,  February  21,  1887,  I  brought  her 
an  engagement  ring.  With  characteristic  audacity 
she  insisted  on  wearing  it  at  once.  When  at  our  next 
meeting  I  asked  if  her  girls  had  not  remarked  it,  she 
said  they  had  on  that  very  evening;  but  that  when 
she  had  told  them  it  was  her  birthday  and  this  was 
one  of  her  birthday  gifts,  she  started  a  discussion 
over  their  respective  ages  and  the  subject  of  the  ring 
disappeared.  It  did  not  disappear  from  her  finger, 
however,  necessary  though  concealment  was.  We 
both  understood  how  badly  the  college  and  her  work 
would  be  upset  if  our  relations  were  talked  of  before 
the  end  of  the  term.  I  therefore  stayed  away  from 
Wellesley,  and  nobody,  not  even  the  members  of 
our  two  families,  learned  until  summer  that  the  new 
tie  was  formed.  Immediately  after  Commencement 
Miss  Freeman  called  a  meeting  of  the  Trustees  and 
laid  the  whole  matter  before  them. 

My  hope  had  been  that  she  would  be  set  free  from 
Wellesley  at  once,  and  the  wedding  take  place  during 
the  summer.  In  view  of  this  she  had  already  made 
some  preliminary  inquiries  about  a  successor,  in- 
quiries which  had  little  other  result  than  to  show 
how  narrow  was  the  range  of  choice.  But  the  Trus- 
tees could  not  be  brought  to  an  immediate  decision. 


MARRIAGE  171 

To  lose  Miss  Freeman  was  in  their  view  to  imperil 
Wellesley,  and  naturally  enough  they  wished  for  time 
to  look  about.  They  urged  her  to  remain  one  year 
more,  during  which  a  successor  might  be  sought, 
while  both  the  public  mind  and  the  internal  affairs 
of  the  college  would  become  adjusted  to  the  new 
order.  From  their  point  of  view  the  plan  was  wise. 
Miss  Freeman's  devotion  to  duty,  too,  answered  the 
appeal  of  their  fears  and  made  any  defence  of  her 
own  advantage  distressing.  I  remember  how  we 
went  driving  on  one  of  those  perplexing  days,  and 
how  as  we  passed  farther  into  the  solitary  woods  her 
spirits  broke  into  girlish  glee  over  the  prospect  of 
our  home.  She  sang,  laughed,  jested,  spoke  low. 
Suddenly  our  road  left  the  woods,  and  we  found  our- 
selves again  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Waban,  with  the 
college  in  full  sight  across  the  water.  Her  merriment 
stopped.  Her  face  sobered  and  soon  showed  positive 
anguish.  "How  can  I.^"  she  said  after  a  minute's 
silence.  I  could  not  bring  the  glad  mood  back. 
Sadly  and  with  few  more  words  we  drove  into  the 
college  grounds.  Unhappily,  at  a  time  when  this  call 
of  the  college  was  especially  strong,  I  gave  way  and 
agreed  to  let  her  remain  in  service  until  Christmas. 
It  was  barbarous  to  abandon  her  thus  to  the  wolves. 
The  damage  done  her  health  by  those  cruel  months 
lasted  for  years ;  and  in  December  Professor  Helen 
A.  Shafer  was  appointed  her  successor,  —  the  same 


172  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

excellent  person  who  had  been  designated  in  July 
My  futile  repentance  I  here  record. 

But  graver  questions  than  that  of  date  were  involved 
in  our  marriage.  Miss  Freeman 's  youth  and  beauty 
ruling  so  skilfully  the  fairyland  of  Wellesley  had 
often  brought  her  the  title  of  "The  Princess,"  and 
Tennyson's  poem  of  that  name  had  become  asso- 
ciated with  her  work.  Now  its  problem,  private 
fulfilment  against  public  service,  was  brought  widely 
into  debate.  There  were  heated  partisans  on  each 
side.  On  the  one  hand  it  was  strongly  argued  that 
in  proportion  as  one  develops  capacity  for  public 
things  he  should  treat  his  personal  desires  as  matters 
of  little  moment.  Others  should  treat  them  so  too. 
Priests  cannot  marry,  and  kings  only  those  who  are 
likely  to  promote  the  interests  of  their  land.  When 
a  headstrong  king  resigns  his  crown  to  marry  a  beg- 
gar maid,  it  makes  a  pretty  story,  but  a  justly  exas- 
perated people.  It  is  not  tyranny  to  regulate  the 
marriage  of  soldiers  and  sailors.  Possibly  artists 
should  remain  single.  Responsibility  carries  with  it 
trusts  which  cannot  be  cast  away  at  will.  Civilization 
rests  upon  dedicated  lives,  lives  which  acknowledge 
obligation  not  to  themselves  or  to  other  single  per- 
sons, but  to  the  community,  to  science,  to  art,  to  a 
cause.  Especially  base  was  it  for  one  who  had  proved 
her  power  to  win  an  unwilling  public  to  look  with 
favor  on  the  education  of  women  now  to  snatch  at 


MARRIAGE  173 

the  selfish  seclusion  of  home,  and  so  confirm  the 
popular  fancy  that  a  woman  will  drop  the  weighti- 
est charge  if  enticed  with  a  bit  of  sentiment.  What 
too  must  be  thought  of  the  man  who  would  tempt 
her  from  eminence  to  obscurity  ? 

Such  distrustful  remarks  hurt  Miss  Freeman 
cruelly,  and  she  was  correspondingly  grateful  for  the 
me.ny  kind  words  and  letters  which  brought  approval 
of  her  step.  The  Trustees  and  professors  were 
especially  generous.  They  understood  her  and  now, 
with  but  one  or  two  exceptions,  rejoiced  in  her  gain, 
regardless  of  their  own  loss.  Yet  to  some  even  of 
them,  as  to  many  of  the  public,  it  was  not  at  once 
evident  why  marriage  should  break  her  career  and 
leave  mine  intact.  Why  should  not  I  give  way  rather 
than  she.'^  Harvard  is  at  no  great  distance  from 
Wellesley.  I  had  found  my  way  across  for  injury; 
why  not  now  for  benefit .''  Many  Harvard  instructors 
live  in  neighboring  towns.  One  might  go  to  and  fro 
each  day  from  Wellesley,  Or,  better  still,  why  not 
resign  at  Harvard  and  join  her  in  the  presidency? 
Then  home  and  occupation  would  alike  express  our 
union.  A  friend  of  Wellesley  offered  to  build  us  a 
house  within  the  grounds  there,  and  to  raise  a  fund 
for  the  joint  salary,  though  this  was  hardly  necessary; 
her  salary  being  at  the  time  $4000  and  mine  but 
$3500,  we  should  have  been  in  easier  circumstances 
at  Wellesley  than  in  Cambridge. 


174  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

I  have  stated  these  adverse  criticisms  somewhat 
in  detail  because  they  all  seem  to  me  important. 
With  most  of  them  I  am  in  hearty  sympathy ;  indeed 
I  was  so  even  then,  as  appears  in  a  letter  recently 
sent  me  from  Mrs.  Claflin's  papers  and  printed  at 
the  close  of  this  chapter.  But  though  in  that  letter 
some  considerations  are  given  which  might  well 
lessen  Wellesley's  sense  of  loss,  I  think  I  had  better 
state  here  more  systematically  the  reasons  which  at 
the  time  we  thought  set  us  free  to  act  as  love  prompted. 
Our  problem  having  been  recognized  as  a  somewhat 
general  one,  the  grounds  of  our  decision  may  properly 
have  some  general  interest. 

In  the  view  of  both  of  us  Miss  Freeman's  work  at 
Wellesley  was  already  substantially  done.  In  an- 
other six  years  she  could  accomplish  little  more  than 
any  creditable  successor.  She  had  set  the  pattern, 
and  quiet  growth  according  to  it  was  what  was  now 
required.  Little  further  constructive  work  was  at 
the  moment  possible.  From  the  dying  hands  of  the 
founder  she  had  received  the  rough  outlines  of  a  col- 
lege. With  consummate  skill  and  originality  she 
had  set  these  in  order,  and  filled  them  with  such 
ideals  as  would  insure  their  ultimate  strength.  But 
she  was  confined  to  a  pioneer  epoch,  and  its  very 
conditions  cut  her  off  from  sharing  in  the  anticipated 
results.  No  college  can  be  created  at  a  word ;  it  is  a 
thing  of  growih.    Especially  is  it  true  of  a  college 


MARRIAGE  175 

started  by  a  single  founder  that  after  its  first  active 
years  there  comes  a  considerable  period  of  quiescence. 
Until  the  personal  stamp  has  worn  away,  the  public 
rightly  will  not  adopt  it.  The  Trustees  selected  by 
the  founder  must  die,  his  Faculty  be  replaced,  the 
resources  of  his  fortune  prove  evidently  insufficient, 
his  private  methods  of  administration  go  through  a 
searching  criticism,  and  he  himself  sink  into  a  hazy 
and  mythical  figure,  before  the  community  will  re- 
gard his  college  as  really  its  own  and  a  new  group 
of  givers  be  gathered  for  its  support.  All  this  requires 
time.  It  seemed  to  Miss  Freeman  and  myself  that 
having  faithfully  carried  the  college  through  its 
pioneer  period,  she  might  be  discharged  from  its 
waiting  time;  that  the  length  of  this  might  even  be 
diminished  and  the  coming  of  a  period  of  expansion 
be  hastened  by  the  withdrawal  of  one  so  closely  asso- 
ciated with  its  founder.  Much  of  the  aid  she  could 
now  give  might  be  given  as  well  in  private  life  as  from 
the  president's  chair.  Of  course  she  remained  on  the 
Board  of  Trustees,  and  was  a  close  friend  of  the 
succeeding  presidents. 

But  it  might  well  be  urged  that  even  during  the 
waiting  years,  though  further  enlargement  was  im- 
possible, her  ennobling  presence  could  ill  be  spared. 
I  thought,  however,  that  so  subordinate  a  benefit  to 
the  college  should  properly  give  way  to  the  demands 
of  her  health.  It  will  be  remembered  that  she  broke 


176         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

down  during  her  first  year  at  Wellesley.  While  she 
learned  much  from  that  experience,  she  had  never 
been  able  to  adopt  the  more  indulgent  modes  of  life 
which  she  knew  to  be  necessary  for  full  recovery. 
Her  office  claimed  all  her  time  and  much  more  than 
her  strength,  allowing  her  only  a  single  vacation  in 
six  years.  The  duties  of  a  president  are  under  the 
best  conditions  enormous,  and  present  themselves 
with  little  regard  to  the  needs  of  him  who  executes 
them.  They  crushed  her  two  successors  more  quickly 
than  herself.  To-day  we  have  learned  better  means 
of  protection  than  were  known  then.  President 
Hazard  justly  writes,  "Twenty  years  ago  there  were 
fewer  devices  for  labor-saving.  Stenographers  were 
not  yet  in  the  field,  secretaries  still  wrote  long-hand. 
So  with  scanty  help,  working  day  and  night,  living  in 
the  building  with  her  girls,  having  them  constantly 
in  close  association  with  her,  giving  unsparingly  of 
herself.  Miss  Freeman  lived  her  life."  I  did  not 
think  it  safe  that  such  exhaustion  should  continue. 
It  was  better  even  for  the  college  that  she  should  help 
it  henceforth  in  other  ways. 

Obviously  too  these  conditions  cut  me  off  from 
joining  her  at  Wellesley ;  for  while,  if  I  were  there,  I 
could  undoubtedly  relieve  her  of  much,  I  could  not 
break  up  those  habits  of  whole-hearted  devotion 
which  were  at  once  her  glory  and  her  darker.  But 
of  course  I  had  no  idea  of  closing  her  career.   Those 


MARRIAGE  177 

who  protested  against  this  were  quite  right.  Talents 
so  obviously  meant  for  mankind  no  one  had  a  right 
to  seize  for  himself.  "Not  mine,  I  never  called 
her  mine."  Only  on  condition  that  I  could  give  her 
enlargement,  not  confinement,  was  I  justified  in 
accepting  her  sacrifice  and  bearing  her  away  to  my 
home.  Yet  I  thought  our  critics  a  little  dull  not  to 
perceive  the  vast  increase  of  powers  which  love, 
home,  ease,  and  happiness  bring.  Until  these  funda- 
mental needs  are  supplied,  everybody  in  my  judg- 
ment is  only  half  himself.  It  is  absurd  then  to  look 
on  these  with  suspicion  and  exalt  a  public  career  in 
contrast,  when  these  are  the  very  means  by  which 
that  becomes  rich  and  strong.  The  public  person  is 
not  one  being  and  the  private  another ;  for  the  worth 
of  public  leadership  is  pretty  exactly  proportioned 
to  the  wealth  of  the  personal  nature.  So  it  had 
hitherto  been  in  her  case.  To  carry  that  wealth  still 
nearer  to  completeness  was  my  happy  office.  Presi- 
dent Eliot's  words  are  weighty :  — 

"After  six  years  of  masterly  work  at  Wellesley 
College,  in  which  she  exhibited  the  keenest  intelli- 
gence, large  executive  ability,  and  a  remarkable 
capacity  for  winning  affection  and  respect,  she  laid 
down  these  functions,  married  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
two,  and  apparently  entered  on  a  wholly  new  career. 
Alice  Freeman  thus  gave  the  most  striking  testimony 
she  could  give  of  her  faith  in  the  fundamental  social 


178  ALICE   FREEIMAN  PALMER 

principle  that  love  between  man  and  woman,  and 
the  family  life  which  results  therefrom,  afford  for 
each  sex  the  conditions  of  its  greatest  usefulness  and 
honor,  and  of  its  supreme  happiness.  The  opponents 
of  the  higher  education  of  women  had  always  argued 
that  such  education  would  tend  to  prevent  marriage 
and  to  dispossess  the  family  as  the  cornerstone  of 
society.  Alice  Freeman  gave  the  whole  force  of  her 
conspicuous  example  to  disprove  that  objection.  She 
illustrated  in  her  own  case  the  supremacy  of  love  and 
of  family  life  in  the  heart  of  both  man  and  woman." 
I  have  said  that  I  weakly  agreed  to  have  Miss 
Freeman  remain  at  Wellesley  until  December.  Each 
Sunday  of  those  autumn  months  I  spent  with  her 
there,  becoming  more  fully  acquainted  with  the  col- 
lege and  the  life  which  she  was  soon  to  lay  doAvn.  In 
these  last  months  she  was  doubly  anxious  to  do  her 
utmost  for  her  beloved  college,  and  everybody  who 
had  any  subject  on  which  she  might  be  consulted  with 
advantage  took  this  opportunity  to  see  her.  Girls 
and  colleagues  hastened  to  get  one  final  draught  of 
inspiration.  Love  is  merciless,  and  often  crowds  so 
close  to  its  adored  object  as  almost  to  trample  it 
down.  Then  too  the  conflicting  claims  of  home  and 
college  tore  her  night  and  day.  A  severer  period  of 
toil  she  never  experienced.  Fortunately  a  limit  was 
fixed  by  the  Harvard  Christmas  recess,  extending 
from  December  23  to  January  3.   The  first  of  these 


MARRIAGE  179 

days,  falling  in  1887  on  Friday,  was  set  for  the  wed- 
ding. She  had  decided  to  be  married  at  the  house 
of  Governor  and  Mrs.  Claflin,  65  Mt.  Vernon  Street, 
Boston,  which  had  been  one  of  her  dearest  places  of 
refuge  since  she  first  came  to  Wellesley.  Her  par- 
ents' home  was  too  far  away.  As  I  was  living  in 
chambers,  Cambridge  was  out  of  the  question ;  and 
she  could  not  get  rid  of  a  feeling  that  to  be  married 
in  the  Wellesley  Chapel  would  give  her  personal 
affairs  excessive  prominence.  The  wedding  was  at 
half-past  eleven  in  the  morning.  Up  to  that  hour  of 
the  previous  night  she  worked  in  her  college  office. 

LETTERS 

BoxFORD,  July  8,  1887. 
Dear  Mrs.  Claflin: 

I  hear  from  Miss  Freeman  that  she  has  told  you 
of  our  engagement.  I  am  very  glad  she  has.  You 
would  naturally  be  one  of  the  first  whom  we  should 
wish  to  tell.  You  have  known  us  as  few  others 
among  the  Trustees  have,  and  in  the  excited  discus- 
sions that  are  to  come  there  will  be  plenty  of  need  of 
clear  knowledge,  in  order  to  make  people  turn  away 
from  their  hot  momentary  feeling  and  consider  the 
real  facts  in  the  case.  This  great  service  of  keeping 
people  just  and  clear-headed  you  can  now  do  for 
Miss  Freeman.  She  will  need  such  protection.  She 
is  greatly  strained  already.    You  know  how  sensitive 


180  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

she  is  to  the  disapproval  of  those  she  loves,  even 
when  she  sees  that  their  disapproval  springs  from 
nothing  better  than  half  knowledge.  To  hint  that  she 
is  abandoning  duty  for  selfish  gains  is  to  cut  her 
with  a  knife.  We  all  perceive  that  she  is  incapable 
of  doing  such  a  thing,  but  her  pain  is  just  as  great 
as  if  she  were. 

On  the  other  hand,  that  people  will  abuse  me  I 
anticipate,  and  I  think  it  very  proper  that  they 
should.  Being  of  tolerably  tough  material,  I  can 
stand  abuse  very  comfortably.  In  the  place  of  a 
Wellesley  Trustee,  I  dare  say  I  should  denounce  this 
thievish  Harvard  professor  pretty  roundly.  And  yet 
I  hold  that  at  the  present  moment  I  am  one  of  the 
great  benefactors  of  Wellesley,  one  of  the  few  who 
clearly  see  the  direction  in  which  its  prosperity  lies. 
Let  me  explain  the  paradox. 

Great  causes  and  great  institutions  are  generally 
best  founded,  or  guided  through  crises,  by  a  single 
leader.  They  are  embodiments  of  him.  His  is  their 
inspiration  and  his  their  wisdom.  The  service  of 
them  is  personal  allegiance.  To  him  everything  is 
referred,  and  his  will  takes  for  the  time  the  place  of 
all  more  minute  law  and  organization.  Wellesley 
has  fortunately  had  this  experience,  first  under  Mr. 
Durant  and  then  under  the  general  of  his  choice. 
But  the  danger  which  besets  such  an  institution  is 
obvious :  it  does  not  acquire  a  life  of  its  own.  Every- 


]NL\RRIAGE  181 

thing  is  staked  on  the  single  leader;  and  even  when 
that  leader  is  perfect,  there  is  something  lacking  in 
the  spontaneous  vigor  of  the  separate  parts.  It  is 
beautiful  to  see  how  the  greatest  of  all  leaders  per- 
ceived this  and  said  to  his  disciples,  "It  is  expedient 
for  you  that  I  go  away,  although  because  I  go  sor- 
row hath  filled  your  hearts."  He  knew  that  fulness 
of  life  could  come  about  only  in  that  way. 

Now  you  know  that  ever  since  I  have  been  ac- 
quainted with  you,  and  before  I  loved  Miss  Freeman, 
I  pointed  out  that  this  must  be  the  next  stage  in 
Wellesley's  growth.  I  held  that  it  was  now  about 
ready  for  it.  There  is  always  something  green  and 
immature  in  an  institution  that  hangs  much  on  a 
single  person.  It  is  in  unstable  equilibrium.  Solid 
organizations  welcome  great  men,  but  are  not  de- 
pendent on  them.  A  Western  college  may  die  if  it 
does  not  get  a  suitable  president;  the  great  univer- 
sities of  Germany  change  their  rectors  every  two 
years,  and  are  totally  unaffected. 

You  and  I  believe  in  Miss  Freeman's  work.  We 
think  it  has  been  strong  and  far-seeing.  We  hold 
that  she  has  set  the  college  on  the  right  paths  and 
has  not  only  done  herself,  but  has  shown  others  how 
to  do.  If  this  is  our  belief,  we  have  nothing  to  be 
afraid  of  in  the  present  change.  The  time  of  test- 
ing her  work  is  come,  and  we  can  be  calm,  sure 
that  whatever  the  temporary  hardship,  here  is  an 


182  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

opportunity  for  the  college  to  take  a  great  step  foT<' 
ward. 

You  will  readily  suppose  that  in  my  mind  these 
are  no  new  thoughts.  For  Wellesley  I  am  something 
like  the  enthusiast  that  you  are,  and  this  ennobling 
friendship  of  mine  with  Miss  Freeman  could  not 
deepen  from  year  to  year  and  month  to  month  with- 
out often  calling  me  to  consider  what  right  I  had  to 
such  a  share  in  her.  The  advantage  I  have  must  be 
the  advantage  of  the  public  too.  Unless  I  had  be- 
lieved it  might  be  so,  I  would  have  turned  away.  I 
do  believe  it ;  and  as  I  come  nearer,  I  believe  it  more 
and  more.  I  now  know  —  what  I  did  not  at  first  — 
that  those  who  clamor  for  her  remaining  longer  at 
Wellesley,  while  believing  themselves  public-spirited 
are  doing  a  cruelly  selfish  thing.  They  are  asking  her 
to  give  what  she  has  already  spent,  and  spent  too 
for  their  sakes.  If  they  really  love  her  and  are  grate- 
ful for  her  work,  they  will  beg  her  to  leave.  My 
chief  fear  is  that  it  is  already  too  late.  If  I  had  never 
appeared,  she  could  not  go  on  two  years  longer.  But 
my  hope  is  that  by  constant  watchfulness  and  by  the 
warm  strength  of  a  home  —  which  to  her,  since  she 
is  a  human  being,  is  no  less  precious  than  it  is  to 
those  who  will  blame  her  —  I  may  do  something  to 
restore  powers  already  seriously  shaken  and  may 
succeed  in  making  of  her  a  great  buttress,  a  strong 
outside  support,  for  Wellesley  through  many  years. 


MARRIAGE  183 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  too  that  my  own  opportunities 
for  helping  Wellesley  will  now  be  much  increased. 

But  these  things  are  not  the  main  object  of  my 
letter.  I  am  really  writing  an  invitation.  I  want  you 
to  visit  me  here  a  week  from  Saturday,  and  to  bring 
Miss  Freeman  with  you.  Here  we  will  have  more  of 
those  restful  days  which  grow  only  in  these  pleasant 
fields.  The  past  months  have  brought  some  hard- 
ships, among  them  these :  that  for  the  sake  of  the 
college  I  thought  I  had  no  right  to  visit  Wellesley  — 
which  I  saw  but  once  between  March  and  Commence- 
ment —  and  then  that  for  the  same  reason  I  have 
been  forced  into  silence  with  my  friends.  Now  there 
is  a  glad  relief  from  restraint.  Alice  and  I  have  been 
perfectly  free  in  expressing  to  you  our  interest  in  one 
another  while  we  were  only  friends;  and  now  that 
Our  friendship  has  gone  through  and  through  us,  we 
want  you  with  us  still;  for  you  know  as  few  others 
can  how  exceptional  is  our  union  —  occupations 
and  tastes  and  principles  and  experience  already 
harmonized  before  we  marry,  and  our  powers  suf- 
ficiently unlike  to  give  us  the  wealth  of  diversity.  I 
am  sure  that  you  who  are  not  afraid  of  sentiment 
will,  if  with  some  momentary  regrets,  still  give  us  your 
hearty  approval  and,  as  I  hope,  your  presence  here. 

With  warm  regard,  I  am, 

Sincerely  yours, 

G.  H.  Palmer. 


184  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

You  ouf^ht  not  to  be  abroad  this  brij^ht  summei 
Sunday,  but  here  where  we  could  talk  to  our  heart's 
content  of  many,  many  things.  Your  good  letter 
made  me  sorry  that  you  have  met  disappointments 
everywhere  in  your  wanderings,  but  I  hope  you  have 
found  the  clear  air  invigorating  for  your  sister.  Then 
I  am  sure  you  will  be  contented.  I  shall  not  go 
abroad  this  summer.  I  need  the  rest  badly,  and 
ought  to  go  and  take  it  immediately.  But  perhaps  I 
can  do  better.  It  is  of  this  that  I  want  to  write  you 
to-day.  So  go  away  by  yourself  before  you  read  my 
next  page.  It  is  cruel  that  I  cannot  be  near  to  com- 
fort you  as  I  talk,  because  I  think  you  will  be  very 
sorry,  possibly  angry;  but  sometime  you  will  know 
that  I  am  doing  the  best  thing  I  can  possibly  do.  For 
I  am  going  to  marry  —  sometime  —  and  to  marry 
Professor  Palmer.  Yes,  dear,  I  know  you  think  I 
ought  not  to  leave  the  college,  and  are  terribly 
grieved.  You  asked  me  once  about  him,  but  then  we 
were  not  engaged.  As  soon  as  I  can,  I  tell  you ;  and  I 
believe  you  will  really  be  glad  to  have  me  take  a 
quieter,  longer  life  than  I  could  otherwise  have,  a 
happier  and  a  wiser  one.  Remember  this  when  you 
come  home  and  do  not  refuse  to  know  my  professor, 
but  learn  to  love  him  for  his  own  true  sake  —  not 
merely  for  mine.  And  won't  you  read  German  with 
me  this  year?  I  must  revive  my  languages  as  fully 
as  possible,  for  I  suppose  the  following  summer  we 
go  abroad. 


IVIARRIAGE  185 

I  am  just  dressed,  dear  father,  for  the  first  time 
since  Monday;  and  now  it  is  Thursday  afternoon. 
An  intermittent  fever  has  got  hold  of  me  and  a  bad 
cough,  especially  nights  and  mornings.  I  had  no 
appetite,  and  the  constant  feeling  of  weakness  wore 
me  out  and  sent  me  to  bed  last  Monday.  Now  I  am 
better,  and  I  want  to  talk  about  plans  for  the  summer 
instead  of  about  myself  all  the  time.  My  engagement 
is  announced,  and  I  have  promised  the  Trustees  to 
remain  as  president  for  a  part  of  next  year.  So  you 
will  be  pleased,  quite  satisfied  I  hope.  I  make  up  a 
bundle  of  these  nice  letters  which  have  come  from 
all  over  the  country  and  share  them  with  you.  H. 
writes,  "Ah,  if  we  might  have  Professor  Palmer  here 
at  Wellesley!"  That  is  what  so  many  are  saying 
—  all  except  the  Harvard  and  Cambridge  people  — 
urging  him  to  come  to  the  college  with  me. 

I  wonder  where  you  would  like  me  to  be  married 
when  the  time  comes.  All  his  friends  and  the  college 
people  will  wish  the  wedding  here,  for  few  could  go 
so  far  as  Michigan.  But  I  would  never  consent  to  be 
married  at  the  college  unless  every  member  of  my 
family  could  be  present,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
should  like  it  even  then.  I  can  see  that  I  shall  be 
urged  to  let  Wellesley  have  the  pleasure  of  the  wed- 
ding. Mr.  Palmer  would  like  to  have  it  in  the 
pleasant  autumn  weather,  when  it  is  so  much  easier 
to  begin  housekeeping  than  in  the  winter.  Could  you 


186  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

come  East  by  that  time  ?  Yet  our  house  in  Saginaw 
is  so  pretty  I  should  really  like  to  have  the  wedding 
there,  where  it  would  be  less  conspicuous.  A  few 
people  would  like  to  come  from  here.  Tell  me  what 
you  think. 

I  snatch  this  little  minute  on  the  train  going  to 
Boston  in  order  to  get  a  word  with  you,  my  child. 
Can  you  read  what  I  would  say .''  On  Friday  morning, 
December  23,  I  am  to  be  married  in  Boston,  just 
Mr.  Palmer's  family  and  my  own  present.  A  few  of 
our  dearest  friends  are  to  be  invited  to  meet  us 
immediately  afterwards.  I  wish  my  little  girl  could 
be  there  and  meet  her  new  father.  But  I  will  answer 
now  the  questions  you  have  in  mind.  I  am  to  be 
married  in  a  long  white  moire  dress,  with  point  lace 
and  veil,  —  to  be  a  real  bride,  you  see,  —  and  my 
reception  dresses  are  dark  red  velvet,  white  lace, 
white  silk,  and  yellow  satin.  We  go  to  housekeeping 
immediately  in  Cambridge. 

It  is  now  settled  that  we  sail  the  first  of  July,  and 
remain  fifteen  months  abroad.  I  am  sure  the  deci- 
sion is  wise,  but  I  have  many  regrets,  I  love  some 
people  and  colleges  in  and  about  Boston  so  much 
that  this  long  absence  is  not  coveted.  Yet  we  both 
need  to  seize  the  opportunity  at  once.  If  we  wait  a 
year,  with  so  many  frail  relatives  on  each  side,  we 


MARRIAGE  187 

may  not  be  able  to  go  at  all.  We  can  go  now,  leaving 
all  our  friends  in  fair  comfort  and  health;  and  a  year 
hence  return  from  rest  and  study  a  good  deal  better 
fitted  for  daily  work.  So  I  am  making  my  farewell 
visit  at  home,  leaving  my  husband  to  cope  with  a  new 
cook  alone.  Why  will  good  servants  get  married  ? 

1888,  December  23,  11.30  a.  m.  Dear  Mrs.  Claflin  : 
You  are  the  one  who  must  share  this  hour.  Do  you 
know  that  just  a  year  ago  my  George  was  taking  me 
down  the  stairs  into  your  beautiful  rooms  to  make 
me  a  wife  ?  So  I  must  come  back  and  end  the  perfect 
year  as  I  began  it,  under  the  light  of  your  smile.  No 
one  of  us  knew  then  how  blessed  a  year  was  opening 
before  two  people.  I  wish  I  might  sit  down  in  your 
own  room  now  and  show  you  the  symbol  which  has 
just  been  put  on  my  hand .  It  is  a  great  shining  opal, 
set  round  with  diamonds.  When  G.  and  I  were  in 
Paris  four  months  ago  we  were  strolling  one  night, 
looking  into  the  jeweller's  fascinating  windows,  and 
discovered  an  opal  ring  with  tints  of  green  and  gold, 
richer  and  deeper  than  we  had  ever  seen  before.  We 
looked  at  it  with  delight  and  often  afterwards 
searched  for  it,  but  could  never  find  it  again.  Fancy 
how  my  breath  was  taken  away  when  just  now  that 
identical  ring  was  put  on  my  finger!  That  base 
deceiver  had  helped  me  look  for  it  many  a  time  after 
it  was  safely  hidden  in  his  pocket.  And  now  here  it 


188         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

is,  with  the  splendor  of  the  sun  at  its  heart  and 
changing  into  fresh  beauty  whenever  I  look  at  it. 
That,  dear  friend,  is  like  married  life,  is  n't  it?  All 
things  made  new  every  morning  and  evening.  And 
it  is  good  to  have  you  so  tied  in  with  our  greatest 
days.  I  think  of  you  in  connection  with  Boxford's 
sweet  peace,  with  Wellesley's  eager  life,  with  all  our 
married  joy  and  work  together.  Let  us  see  each  other 
very  often  when  I  come  home. 


X 

SABBATICAL  YEARS 

Three  out  of  the  four  divisions  into  which  Mrs. 
Palmer's  Hfe  naturally  falls  have  now  been  described. 
First  there  was  the  period  of  Family  Life,  before  she 
had  acquired  a  life  of  her  own ;  then  that  of  Culture, 
when  from  early  girlhood  to  university  graduation 
she  was  busy  with  her  own  development ;  thirdly,  that 
of  Service,  when  the  daily  demands  of  other  people 
dictated  every  act.  Now  with  her  marriage  begins  a 
period  of  Self-Expression,  when  she  came  to  the  full 
use  of  all  her  powers  and  in  their  joyous  outgo  so 
combined  service  and  culture  that  it  was  impossible 
to  say  whether  she  labored  for  the  benefit  of  others 
or  for  the  mere  fun  of  the  thing.  The  latter  was  her 
own  view.  As  she  woke  in  the  morning  she  would 
often  say,  "Here's  another  great  rich  day!"  The 
glowing  world  was  before  her,  and  with  it  she  was  in 
complete  accord.  I  have  seen  a  puzzled  look  come 
over  her  face  when  her  self-denial  was  praised.  That 
was  not  the  side  from  which  she  approached  her 
duties;  interest  in  them  was  her  prompter.  I  some- 
times think  she  was  hardly  more  unselfish  than 
others;  only  her  selfishness  excluded  none  of  the 


190         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

affairs  of  those  about  her,  but  found  its  material 
there.  From  her  earhest  childhood  there  was  stored 
in  this  exuberant  and  sympathetic  nature  provision 
for  the  union  of  aims  which  often  conflict.  It  grew 
through  all  her  bleak  years,  but  reached  its  most 
exquisite  and  abundant  fruitage  only  after  she  found 
herself  in  a  sheltered  home.  There,  though  she  still 
did  the  work  of  several  men,  bits  of  quiet  could  be 
interposed,  her  health  was  guarded  and  grew  firm, 
the  large  range  and  variety  of  her  influence  prevented 
monotonous  fatigue,  and  the  happiness  of  her  own 
dancing  heart  went  forth  to  gladden  all  she  did. 
Through  strenuous  seasons  she  had  already  gained 

The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will. 
Endurance,  foresight,  strength,  and  skill. 

She  now  went  on  her  joyous  way  exulting  in  their 
exercise. 

During  the  spring  of  1888  we  occupied  a  furnished 
house  in  Cambridge,  where  Mrs.  Palmer  was 
warmly  welcomed.  Study  was  thrown  to  the  winds; 
we  devoted  ourselves  to  resting,  to  becoming  better 
acquainted  with  each  other  and  with  our  neighbors. 
In  a  university  town  every  newcomer  must  eat  his 
way  in,  and  during  the  ccurse  of  his  adoption  as 
a  member  of  the  household  attend  a  kindly  series  of 
dinners  and  teas.  This  process  of  making  acquaint- 
ance was  in  our  case  begun  by  a  luncheon  in  Mrs. 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  191 

Palmer's  honor  given  by  President  and  Mrs.  Eliot» 
and  attended  solely  by  the  Harvard  Faculty  and  their 
wives.  Similar  festivities  filled  our  evenings.  Our 
afternoons  were  occupied  with  calls;  I  remember 
making  three  hundred  and  forty  in  the  course  of  the 
season.  Mondays,  the  weekly  holidays  of  Wellesley, 
we  opened  our  door  to  Mrs.  Palmer's  former  asso- 
ciates. Making  a  business  of  society  was  so  novel  to 
me  that  I  was  interested  in  watching  its  difiFerent 
effects  on  Mrs.  Palmer  and  myself.  For  a  time  it 
puzzled  me  to  know  why  at  the  end  of  a  day  of  it  she 
came  out  fresh  and  I  exhausted.  But  I  soon  dis- 
covered that  she  had  all  the  time  been  enjoying 
people,  while  I  had  been  trying  to  enjoy  them.  For 
her,  people  always  seemed  necessary  to  enable  her 
to  breathe  easily,  their  manifold  interests  to  be  her 
daily  food.  As  she  gradually  adjusted  herself  to  my 
studious  ways,  and  I  to  her  social  ones,  there  came  a 
double  gain. 

But  her  obvious  need  after  so  many  years  of  labor 
was  entire  rest  and  change  of  scene.  If  so  vital  a 
creature  could  be  rendered  torpid  for  a  time,  she 
would  be  sure  to  come  forth  with  heightened  powers. 
For  just  such  periodic  renewal  there  exists  a  happy 
provision  at  Harvard,  this  being  the  first  university 
to  establish  the  Sabbatical  Year.  Each  seventh  year, 
it  is  arranged,  a  professor  may  take  to  himself  on 
half  pay.  He  need  not  teach  or  study,  he  may  travel 


192  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

or  remain  at  home,  he  may  even  aUogether  decline 
the  profTered  vacation  and  go  on  with  customary 
work  and  salary;  but  the  opportunity  is  given  to 
freshen  and  enrich  himself,  and  by  doing  so  to  enrich 
his  subsequent  teaching.  Only  five  years  before,  I 
had  enjoyed  such  a  vacation,  but  the  authorities 
of  the  University,  perceiving  Mrs.  Palmer's  need, 
offered  me  another  prematurely.  I  accepted  it;  we 
went  abroad  in  June,  remaining  away  for  more  than 
a  year.  Three  such  Sabbatical  Years  we  had,  in  1888, 
1895,  and  1902,  important  periods  in  Mrs.  Palmer's 
life,  yet  interruptions  of  its  current.  Being  detach- 
able from  the  rest  of  her  story,  I  will  treat  them  all 
here  indiscriminately,  in  connection  with  the  first. 
Nor  will  I  set  down  their  incidents  chronologically, 
but  rather  indicate  the  general  methods  of  recupera- 
tion pursued  in  them  and  thus  attempt  to  exhibit  in 
its  lighter  moments  a  character  which  has  hitherto 
appeared  too  sedate. 

Mrs.  Palmer  was  an  excellent  loafer.  I  had  some 
misgivings  on  this  point  at  first,  remembering  how 
perniciously  habituated  she  was  to  industry.  In 
going  abroad  I  felt  that  my  chief  object  must  be  to 
teach  her  to  eat,  sleep,  and  loaf.  But  she  required 
no  teaching,  and  took  to  all  these  useful  arts  instinct- 
ively. In  fact  they  had  been  the  secret  of  her  past 
endurance.  She  never  worried.  WTien  a  job  w^as 
completed,  or  not  yet  ready  to  attack,  she  turned  her 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  193 

mind  to  other  things.  During  her  severest  times  at 
Wellesley  she  slept  soundly  and  immediately.  Once 
in  later  life,  after  a  public  address,  when  she  was 
about  to  take  a  train  for  another  engagement,  a  worn 
woman  pressed  forward  with  the  question,  "Mrs. 
Palmer,  how  are  you  able  to  do  so  much  more  than 
other  persons  ? "  The  time  only  permitted  a  witty 
epigram,  but  she  packed  it  with  truth.  "Because," 
she  answered,  "I  haven't  any  nerves  nor  any  con- 
science, and  my  husband  says  I  have  n't  any  back- 
bone." A  prosaic  letter  came  the  next  day  inquiring 
whether  one  could  altogether  dispense  with  a  con- 
science. She  could,  when  work  was  over.  Into  a 
holiday  no  schoolgirl  of  twelve  ever  carried  a  lighter 
heart.  Her  very  aptitudes  for  business  fitted  her  also 
for  recreation,  since  whatever  was  appropriate  to  the 
moment,  even  idleness,  got  at  once  her  full  attention. 
Such  intentional  methods  of  escaping  responsibility 
were  greatly  assisted  too  by  the  native  nimbleness 
of  her  physical  senses,  her  response  to  natural  beauty, 
the  vivacious  interest  she  took  in  every  moving  thing, 
and  her  disposition  to  fill  small  matters  with  romance. 
The  aim  then  of  our  Sabbatical  Years  not  being 
intellectual  or  social  profit,  we  sought  seclusion  and 
avoided  sight-seeing.  Seldom  did  we  go  out  of  an 
evening,  and  we  carried  no  letters  of  introduction. 
Europe  we  took  as  our  playground.  We  should  have 
remained  at  home  if  anywhere  in  America  we  could 


194  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

have  escaped  business  and  people ;  but  against  these 
attractive  enemies  of  the  worn-out  man  there  is  no 
barrier  like  the  ocean.  We  accordingly  moved  about 
as  little  as  possible;  and  if  we  ever  went  to  popular 
resorts,  we  went  there  out  of  season.  We  did  not 
visit  Norway  or  Russia,  Asia,  Africa,  or  Spain  —  all 
these  parts  requiring  a  large  amount  of  travel.  Our 
taste  turned  to  places  where  greater  enjoyment  coulJ 
be  had  with  smaller  fatigue.  Rome,  too,  we  gener- 
ally avoided,  as  the  place  where  all  the  world  is 
engaged  in  afternoon  tea.  Our  chief  demand  was 
domestic  comfort,  with  a  minor  welcome  for  pleasing 
scenes  or  handy  galleries  and  libraries.  Sunshine  we 
also  desired,  but  learned  how  rarely  it  can  be  had  in 
a  European  winter.  That  the  sun  works  throughout 
the  year  is  apparently  a  discover}'  of  Columbus,  our 
America  showing  between  its  wintry  storms  such 
skies  as  Europe  seldom  sees.  One  spends  weeks 
abroad  without  the  sun.  For  half  the  year  the  gray 
day  is  in  fashion ;  while  the  feeling  of  the  American 
is  that  it  is  the  business  of  clouds  to  rain,  and  that 
when  not  engaged  in  this  they  should  leave  the  sky. 
But  finding  that  pretty  much  the  same  gloom 
obtained  everywhere,  we  thought  we  profited  most 
by  long  stays  in  single  places.  When  after  a  few 
months  the  sense  of  repose  began  to  wear  down  into 
incipient  monotony,  we  would  interpose  a  few  weeks 
of  brisk  travel  before  settling  again  in  some  spot 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  195 

widely  different  from  the  previous  home.  To  the 
making  of  these  successive  homes  we  thought  a  few 
famihar  objects  useful.  Usually  we  carried  about 
with  us  a  tablecloth,  clock,  hearth-rug,  and  many 
books.  The  distribution  of  these  made  even  hotel 
rooms  homelike. 

But  hotels  were  little  to  our  liking,  especially  those 
designed  for  foreigners.  Finding  that  in  pensions 
we  had  still  less  privacy,  we  usually  took  furnished 
rooms,  hired  a  maid,  and  set  up  housekeeping.  In 
Germany,  for  any  brief  period,  this  is  impossible, 
the  ubiquitous  government  invading  the  kitchen  and 
prescribing  the  length  and  conditions  of  service.  But 
in  France  and  Italy  most  comfortable  apartments 
can  be  had  at  rates  far  below  those  of  the  large  hotels. 
Ours  usually  had  three  chambers,  with  parlor,  dining 
room,  and  kitchen.  Of  the  many  servants  who  have 
been  with  us  in  all  parts  of  Europe  we  never  found 
one  incompetent  or  dishonest,  a  record  almost  in- 
credible to  our  oppressed  housekeepers.  To  several 
we  became  warmly  attached.  In  America  servants 
are  usually  helots  —  a  subject  people  of  alien  na- 
tionality. In  Europe  they  differ  little  from  other 
persons  except  in  the  matter  of  means.  We  found 
several  of  great  intelligence  and  dignity,  but  perhaps 
I  ought  to  add  that  we  never  employed  those  who 
spoke  Enghsh.  They  do  not  keep  their  quality  after 
mixing  much  with  foreigners.  We  generally  obtained 


196  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

them  through  the  concierge,  and  to  them  entrusted 
most  of  our  marketing.  It  was  always  honestly  done, 
at  least  it  was  done  for  less  than  I  could  do  it.  No 
doubt  in  order  to  select  a  good  servant  or  concierge 
one  should  be  a  fair  judge  of  human  nature;  but  he 
who  is  not  will  hardly  find  ease  in  any  relation  of  life. 
On  coming  to  a  city  we  ordinarily  went  to  a  small 
hotel.  From  this  I  sallied  forth  to  explore  the  streets 
w^hich  struck  me  as  best  adapted  for  residence.  Cards 
in  the  windows  show  whether  there  are  apartments 
to  let  and  if  they  are  furnished.  I  seldom  inquired  the 
price,  but  mentioned  what  I  was  prepared  to  pay. 
Nor  did  I  ever  engage  on  a  first  visit ;  but  after  look- 
ing into  ten  or  twenty  houses,  I  made  a  list  of  the 
three  or  four  that  pleased  me  and  reported  them  to 
^Irs.  Palmer.  These  we  then  inspected  together,  com- 
paring their  unlike  advantages,  and  usually  w^ere  soon 
able  to  reach  a  satisfactory  decision.  But  we  did  not 
feel  compelled  to  accept  what  was  merely  pretty 
good,  our  faith  being  that  in  every  city  there  were  just 
the  cheerful  rooms  we  wished,  and  at  our  own  price, 
if  we  could  only  find  them ;  and  never  were  we  disap- 
pointed in  our  pleasant  game  of  hide  and  seek.  A 
little  pains  spent  in  the  search  saves  much  disap- 
pointment in  the  residence.  Some  American  fears, 
too,  proved  groundless:  difficulties  did  not  arise  in 
drawing  the  contract  at  hiring,  nor  on  leaving  were 
we   charged   with   improper  damages.    That   such 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  197 

things  occur  I  do  not  doubt,  but  certainly  they  can- 
not be  common.  Of  course  out  of  season  one  has  his 
best  choice  of  rooms,  gets  them  on  his  own  terms,  and 
keeps  them  only  so  long  as  he  pleases.  We  have 
sometimes  set  up  a  home  for  a  single  month.  The 
total  expense  of  such  an  establishment  —  lodging, 
food,  servant,  washing,  fees,  and  flowers,  this  last  an 
important  item  —  never  exceeded  thirty  francs  a  day 
for  the  two.   Often  it  was  much  less. 

Such  a  home  once  discovered  is  available  after- 
wards. The  happiness  formerly  enjoyed  in  it  is  pre- 
served and  greets  him  who  returns.  There  are  fa- 
miliar faces  and  street-cries.  The  chair  has  a  better 
place  by  the  fire  than  in  other  rooms,  and  the  bed 
yields  sounder  sleep.  One  is  obliged  to  form  no  new 
habits,  and  the  means  of  access  to  the  pleasant  places 
of  the  town  are  understood  without  inquiry.  So  we 
soon  acquired  favorite  haunts.  Grasmere,  among  the 
English  Lakes,  was  one  of  them,  where  we  lived  with 
Wordsworth,  the  wild  roses,  the  rattling  ghylls,  and 
the  mists  which  curl  about  the  slaty  peaks.  To  these 
gracious  scenes  we  usually  turned  on  landing  from 
the  ocean,  and  would  end  the  London  shopping  in 
time  to  spend  among  them  the  week  before  sailing 
home.  Paris  and  Venice  and  Florence  and  the  Uni- 
versity of  my  boyhood,  Tubingen  in  Germany, 
always  claimed  us.  Each  of  these  is  a  city  of  the  soul 
and  completely  sums  up  a  single  mental  attitude. 


198  ALICE   FREEMAN   PALMER 

In  Paris  can  be  had  more  exactly  the  kind  of  life 
one  wishes,  whatever  that  kind  may  be,  than  perhaps 
in  any  other  city  on  earth.  All  is  clean  and  tasteful 
well  regulated,  but  without  the  intrusions  of  Ger- 
many. The  French,  it  is  true,  are  the  Chinese  of 
Europe,  and  possess  an  intelligence  rigidly  circum- 
scribed by  custom  and  locality.  They  lean  helplessly 
on  institutions,  have  small  individual  power,  and 
little  curiosity  about  anything  which  does  not  fall 
within  their  usual  experience.  Deep  insights,  result- 
ing in  beauty,  invention,  or  religion,  are  therefore 
denied  them.  But  prettiness  abounds,  convenience, 
dignified  courtesies  and  ceremonials.  The  people  are 
kind  and  attachable.  Such  matters  are  worth  more 
to  visitors  than  the  profounder  constituents  of  life. 
Indeed  they  impart  better  the  desired  sense  of  for- 
eignness,  the  very  restrictions  of  the  French  mind, — 
its  inability  to  move  beyond  the  limits  of  its  language, 
land  or  etiquette,  —  quickly  forcing  the  stranger  to 
feel  that  he  is  far  from  that  country  of  his  own  which 
he  would  for  the  moment  forget. 

Sometimes  we  were  in  new  Paris,  on  the  Rue 
Galilee,  just  off  the  Champs  Elysees  —  that  match- 
less avenue  which  more  than  any  other  city  street 
thrills  the  beholder  and  invites  him  to  loiter  or  to  sit. 
There  too  the  Bois  was  at  hand  and  flight  to  the 
country  easy.  Sometimes  we  lived  in  the  Latin  Quar- 
ter —  more  Latin  then  than  now  —  haunting  Notre 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  199 

Dame,  the  bookshops  on  the  Quays,  the  lectures  at 
the  Sorbonne,  the  admirable  plays  and  conferences 
of  the  Odeon,  the  student  restaurants.  Really  to 
know  Mrs.  Palmer  one  should  see  her  as  a  merry  girl 
in  a  French  patisserie  or  on  an  omnibus  top.  We 
usually  spent  the  morning  at  home,  had  an  early 
dejeuner  and  then  for  exercise  went  into  the  country, 
walked  the  Long  Gallery  of  the  Louvre,  —  where  one 
may  not  sit,  — looked  into  some  church,  took  a  seat 
in  a  steamboat  on  the  river,  or  hunted  up  some  spot 
connected  with  the  Commune  or  the  greater  Revolu- 
tion. Enlarging  one's  acquaintance  with  a  foreign 
language  is  a  happy  way  of  wasting  a  large  amount 
of  time ;  and  this  makes  it  one  of  the  fittest  sabbatical 
occupations  for  a  busy  pair.  Mrs.  Palmer,  however, 
would  occasionally  turn  aside  from  paths  of  rectitude 
and  visit  schools. 

This  description  of  our  modes  of  life  in  Paris 
applies,  mutatis  mutandis,  to  Venice  and  Florence, 
only  that  Venice  was  the  one  spot  in  Europe  which 
best  met  Mrs.  Palmer's  ideas  of  Paradise.  She  loved 
it  with  romantic  passion,  walking  its  winding  alleys, 
inhabiting  its  churches,  and  sitting  in  its  Piazza  and 
Academy  as  if  all  belonged  to  her.  The  Venetians 
have  fashioned  their  own  world.  Into  it  they  have 
admitted  abundantly  religion,  law,  and  sensuous 
enjoyment,  and  thought  of  these  always  as  friendly. 
Everywhere  they  have  demanded  beauty,  and  taken 


200         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

the  kind  they  preferred  rather  than  the  inherited 
types.  All  this  was  congenial  to  her.  Loving  pictures 
as  she  did,  she  prized  every  gallery  in  proportion  to 
the  number  of  its  Venetian  masters.  In  the  beautiful 
city  itself  she  cared  as  much  for  the  works  of  nature 
as  for  those  of  man,  for  in  it  the  two  ever  intermingle. 
Its  morning  and  evening  lights  she  thought  lovelier 
than  elsewhere,  as  was  also  the  foliage  which  at 
intervals  overhangs  the  watery  streets,  or  the  sky 
sharply  cut  by  the  graceful  architecture.  We  spent 
an  entire  winter  there,  besides  making  shorter  stays 
at  every  possible  season,  living  generally  in  an  old 
palace  on  the  Grand  Canal,  a  little  beyond  Sta.  Maria 
della  Salute. 

To  each,  however,  of  the  years  we  passed  abroad 
we  took  care  to  assign  some  novel  feature.  This  kept 
the  sameness  refreshing.  One  Spring  we  spent  in 
Greece,  going  to  Ithaca,  to  Delphi,  and  Olympia. 
Greek  had  early  been  a  favorite  study  of  Mrs. 
Palmer's,  and  she  came  to  the  enjoyment  of  that 
unique  sculpture  and  architecture  not  unprepared. 
It  is  impossible  to  knock  the  beauty  out  of  a  piece  of 
marble  vrhich  a  Greek  hand  has  touched.  While  a 
fragment  remains,  the  master  is  there.  She  at  least 
found  no  difficulty  in  overlooking  absent  heads  and 
legs,  and  easily  turned  her  mind  to  the  loveliness  that 
is  left.  Greek  gravestones  she  learned  to  know  in 
Athens  for  the  first  time,  and  was  deeply  moved  by 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  201 

their  method  of  proclaiming  no  grief,  but  resting  in 
some  remembered  scene  from  the  Hfe  of  him  who  had 
gone.  She  gathered  all  procurable  photographs  of 
them,  as  of  the  splendid  tombs  of  Italy,  and  placed 
them  together  in  a  book  which  she  called  her  Grave- 
yard. Yet  she  enjoyed  Greece  not  merely  because 
the  Greeks  had  enjoyed  it,  but  for  the  same  reasons 
as  they.  Its  colored  soils,  the  noble  outlines  of  its 
heights,  its  atmosphere,  its  ever  present  sea,  its  olive 
trees,  intoxicated  her  and  kept  her  from  regretting 
its  generally  absent  verdure.  She  interested  herself 
too  in  its  present  conditions  and  people.  Dr.  Schlie- 
mann  was  hospitable.  The  accomplished  sister  of 
Prime  Minister  Tricoupis  became  her  friend. 

But  our  greatest  novelty,  and  the  one  to  which  her 
thoughts  afterwards  most  often  recurred,  was  our 
bicycling  —  a  sport  now  almost  exterminated  by  the 
exciting  and  lazy  automobile.  One  year  we  carried 
our  wheels  from  America  and,  starting  from  Rouen, 
rode  through  Normandy,  Brittany,  and  parts  of 
Picardy  and  Provence ;  then  over  the  Corniche  Road 
from  Frejus  to  Alassio ;  we  crossed  the  three  hundred 
and  sixty  miles  of  Styria  and  Carinthia  lying  between 
Venice  and  Vienna;  rode  through  the  Black  Forest 
from  Tiibingen  to  Freiburg;  and  at  the  close  took 
some  stretches  of  central  England.  Altogether  our 
cyclometers  registered  over  fifteen  hundred  miles, 
When  we  left  home  she  had  sat  on  a  bicycle  only  three 


202  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

times;  but  as  she  had  the  queer  characteristic  of 
doing  excellently  and  at  once  whatever  she  did,  on 
our  first  day  in  Normandy  she  rode  eighteen  miles 
with  entire  ease. 

The  sport  of  bicycling  suited  IMrs.  Palmer's  pas- 
sion for  independence  as  did  little  else.  Ready  as  her 
sympathies  regularly  were,  she  was  no  less  ready, 
when  the  burden  of  the  world  became  oppressive,  to 
throw  them  all  aside.  Then  she  would  renew  herself 
in  utter  freedom  and  isolation,  afterwards  coming 
forth  ardently  social  again.  In  her  the  child  and  the 
responsible  woman  were  ever  amusingly  combined. 
It  was  the  former  that  steered  when  she  sat  on  her 
bicycle.  At  the  call  of  the  white  road  she  felt  all  tics 
to  be  cut.  The  world  was  all  before  her  where  to 
choose.  She  could  turn  to  the  right  or  left,  could  feel 
the  down-pressed  pedal  and  the  rushing  air,  could 
lie  in  the  shade  by  the  roadside,  visit  a  castle,  dally 
long  at  luncheon,  gather  grapes  or  blackberries  from 
the  field,  stop  at  whatever  small  inn  might  attract 
at  night,  and  for  days  together  commune  rather  with 
nature  than  with  man.  To  preserve  the  fullest  sense 
of  independence  we  sent  forward  no  trunk  to  meet 
us  at  appointed  spots,  but  designed  a  soft  bag  for 
the  bicycle  which  would  hold  supplies  for  three  weeks. 
We  made  our  nights  long,  beginning  to  ride  about 
half-past  nine  in  the  morning  and  ending  in  time  for 
the  bath  and  rest  before  dinner.    We  rode  slowly, 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  203 

avoiding  records  of  more  than  forty  miles  a  day,  and 
dismounting  at  every  colorable  excuse;  our  rule  for 
hills  being  that  wherever  a  horse  should  walk,  we 
would.  Nor  did  we  practise  anything  like  continuous 
riding.  A  week  or  two  on  the  bicycle  was  generally 
put  in  between  two  periods  of  housekeeping ;  though 
if  we  happened  in  one  of  our  jaunts  on  any  specially 
charming  village,  we  lingered  as  long  as  the  charm 
continued.  Of  course  we  kept  clear  of  railroads  and 
tourist  regions,  and  so  were  able  to  meet  the  common 
people  in  their  homes  and  fields.  Among  the  peasants 
we  learned  always  to  make,  our  inquiries  of  the 
women,  who  are  far  less  lumpish  than  the  men.  They 
take  the  produce  to  market,  supervise  the  children, 
and  in  general  manage  the  intellectual  side  of  the 
farm.  In  consequence  they  have  their  wits  about 
them  and  are  often  capable  of  an  immediate  answer. 
To  bring  the  man's  mind  into  action  requires  at  least 
three  questions. 

Such  were  our  vacation  years.  From  them  what 
stores  of  health  and  courage  were  borne  away !  What 
vivid  pictures  were  stored  in  memory,  subsequently 
to  be  the  joy,  not  of  solitude,  but  of  crowded  and 
parted  days !  What  happy  intimacy  of  companion- 
ship was  had  when  two,  always  close  in  heart,  but 
ordinarily  much  separated  by  occupation,  could  for 
a  long  period  honorably  make  each  other  their  sole 
concern ! 


804  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

LETTERS 

Tell  US  of  Cambridge  and  Wellesley.  We  are 
hungry  for  every  scrap  of  news  of  them,  in  spite  of 
the  bliss  in  which  we  find  ourselves  here.  And 
really  in  our  part  of  Lucerne  all  is  like  the  story-book 
happenings.  Our  big  sunny  room  has  east  and  south 
windows,  and  our  poetical  balcony,  furnished  with 
tables  and  chairs,  overhangs  a  charming  garden,  laid 
out  with  rare  trees  and  shrubs  along  its  winding 
walks,  and  sloping  to  the  bright  green  waters  of  the 
lake.  All  day  below  us  gay  little  boats  and  busy 
steamers  hurry  by,  or  float  as  lazily  as  the  hundreds 
of  swans  and  ducks  among  them.  And  always  the 
mountains  guard  us.  Before  us  is  the  Titlis  glacier; 
to  the  right  and  left  Pilatus  and  the  Rhighi.  Here 
we  sojourn  for  a  happy  fortnight. 

We  have  been  on  the  Continent  nearly  a  month ; 
and  our  few  days  in  England  were  delightful,  in  spite 
of  the  rain.  The  fragrance  of  our  drives  and  walks 
in  the  English  Lake  country,  our  talks  and  readings 
there,  will  follow  me  to  gray  hairs.  London  itself 
was  then  as  now  suffering  a  deluge.  We  sought  refuge 
in  the  British  Museum  and  National  Gallery.  In 
such  arks  one  could  pass  a  forty  days'  flood  com- 
fortably, but  we  deserted  them  as  soon  as  our  water- 
tight boots  were  made,  and  floated  over  to  Rotter- 
dam. You  know  how  we  two  are  always  lighting  on 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  205 

good  fortune.  On  that  passage  we  had  the  only 
stateroom  of  the  boat.  This  gave  us  an  easy  night, 
with  unspeakable  miseries  all  around.  Do  you  grow 
callous  every  day  in  Europe  to  the  woes  of  humanity  ? 
Or  do  you  stay  awake  nights  with  your  unhappy 
fellow-mortals,  as  helpless  as  they? 

Our  chief  resting  place  between  London  and  here 
was  Tubingen,  where  G.  once  spent  two  years  at  the 
University.  I  wanted  to  know  the  quaint  town.  So 
we  settled  for  ten  days  at  the  Golden  Lamb,  with  our 
windows  looking  out  on  the  Markt  Platz,  where 
peasant  women  sat  all  day  beside  their  fruit  and 
vegetable  baskets.  Each  night  the  storks  came  home 
from  the  fields,  and  with  their  long  legs  perching  on 
the  housetops  looked  solemnly  down  on  their  neigh- 
bors' red  peaked  roofs,  in  proper  fairy  story  fashion. 
There  I  had  my  first  experience  of  German  dinner 
parties ;  for  the  professors  were  most  hospitable  and 
gave  us  extraordinary  entertainments.  Such  mysteri- 
ous pyramids  of  unknown  contents,  into  which  I  un- 
blushingly  plunged  as  the  guest  of  honor,  trembling 
inwardly,  and  without  a  notion  of  how  they  should  be 
attacked.  Ought  one  to  make  the  onset  on  the  east  or 
west  tower,  or  strike  directly  at  the  base  ?  Then  the 
wild  efforts  to  discuss  American  and  German  affairs 
with  their  English  and  my  South  German !  Well,  that 
week  in  the  Fatherland  was  memorable ;  and  in  spite 
of  the  novelty  of  formal  toasts  at  the  dinners,  they 


206  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

were  good  dinners  and  the  people  endlessly  kind  and 
thoughtful.  In  Suabia  even  the  conductors  and  old 
women  treated  me  as  if  I  were  a  long  lost  grandchild. 

This  fragrant  green  sunny  valley  is  so  fair  to  look 
upon !  The  peasant  girls  are  raking  the  thick  hay  on 
steep  slopes;  old  women  are  drying  their  clothes  in 
the  spicy  air;  cattle  and  goats  are  climbing  among 
the  rocks  for  the  juicy  grass,  and  the  sound  of  their 
many  bells  and  the  cries  of  the  herdsmen  and  shep- 
herds come  like  music  from  afar;  and  always  night 
and  day  the  Fiescher-Bach  rushes  and  tumbles  by 
our  windows  on  its  way  from  the  glacier  just  around 
the  shoulder  of  the  mountain  to  join  the  river  below. 
It  seems  as  if  the  brooks  and  bells  were  in  another 
world  and  we  heard  them  in  dreams  only. 

We  have  mounted  up  to  this  height  through  suc- 
cessive steps.  First  came  the  valleys,  with  cottages 
and  fields;  then  rich  green  slopes;  a  little  higher, 
forests  of  pine  and  fir;  above  these,  the  red-brown 
heather  with  broken  granite  rocks,  sometimes  scat- 
tered here  and  there,  sometimes  piled  in  high  masses ; 
and  still  above,  desolations  which  look  as  if  a  world 
had  been  shattered  in  pieces  and  heaped  against  the 
sky.  Making  our  way  among  millions  of  boulders  of 
granite,  slate,  and  marble,  we  find  patches  of  snow, 
and  finally  we  reach  the  snow  fields  themselves  and 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  207 

look  out  upon  the  most  extensive  system  of  glaciers 
which  Europe  can  show, —  four  in  sight  at  once, — 
the  largest  fifteen  miles  long.  It  looks  like  a  wide 
frozen  river,  the  surface  seamed  and  scarred,  winding 
its  way  fearfully  among  the  craggy  peaks. 

On  reaching  Paris  we  went  to  the  little  native  hotel 
which  L.  mentioned  and  found  it  as  pleasant  as  he 
promised,  except  that  we  could  get  no  sunshine  there. 
So  G.  set  forth  to  find  "the  sunniest  pleasantest  rooms 
in  Paris  at  a  merely  nominal  rent."  I  laughed  when 
he  came  home  the  first  night,  his  pedometer  showing 
that  he  had  walked  twelve  miles.  The  second  day 
he  walked  fourteen.  But  he  had  found  an  apartment 
which  we  took  for  two  months  the  instant  I  saw  it. 
I  should  be  relieved  if  I  could  have  rooms  so  beauti- 
ful in  Cambridge.  They  cover  an  entire  fourth  floor 
—  third,  they  call  it  here.  You  should  see  our  pretty 
parlor.  It,  and  every  room  as  well,  has  an  open  fire- 
place. We  burn  soft  coal  and  wood,  and  always  have 
the  cheer  of  a  blaze  on  our  hearth.  The  carpet  is 
dark  red  and  brown.  At  the  three  long  windows  are 
white  lace  curtains  with  red  hangings.  We  have  two 
red  sofas,  three  arm-chairs,  and  five  others  all  covered 
with  the  same  plush.  The  centre  table  has  our  cover 
on  it,  with  a  bowl  of  dahlias  in  the  middle.  At  the 
side  of  the  room  is  a  rosewood  writing  desk,  with  con- 
Yenient  drawers ;  and  near  the  fire-place  a  little  book* 


208  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

case  with  our  books,  a  blossoming  plant  on  its  top. 
Three  good  pictures  are  on  the  walls,  which  are 
themselves  decorated  tastefully  with  panels,  carvings, 
and  mirrors.  The  dining  room  and  three  chambers 
are  no  less  charming. 

Our  servant  can  neither  speak  nor  understand  a 
word  of  anything  except  French,  but  she  is  a  creature 
of  so  many  perfections  that  I  hesitate  to  catalogue 
them.  With  Marie  Louise  in  charge,  French  house- 
keeping is  play.  We  are  growing  fat  under  her  pro- 
viding care.  She  does  our  marketing  and  restricts 
all  extravagance.  But  she  puts  such  an  exquisite 
flavor  into  her  dishes  as  makes  us  grieve  over  her  small 
outlay.  We  have  protested  against  two  as  a  limit  to 
pieces  of  bread,  chops,  etc.  I  think  she  eats  nothing 
herself.  We  have  been  compelled  to  forbid  her 
cleaning  the  whole  apartment  every  day,  for  we  were 
sometimes  kept  up  at  night  by  her  labors  with  the 
dust-cloth.  She  feels  the  deprivation,  and  when  we 
announce  that  we  are  going  out  to  Marly  or  Fon- 
tainebleau,  she  indulges  in  a  genuine  spring  cleaning 
After  doing  everything  else,  she  searches  my  clothes 
to  find  a  possible  stitch  to  take,  and  takes  it  most 
daintily.  If  you  could  see  this  middle-aged,  never- 
smiling,  spotless  woman  and  the  manifold  ways  she 
contrives  for  guarding  us,  you  would  be  amused  and 
touched.  She  seems  to  love  us,  at  least  to  regard  us 
as  a  pair  of  babes  to  be  cared  for. 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  209 

We  give  some  hours  to  study  in  the  morning,  then 
in  the  middle  of  the  day  go  out,  and  are  generally  at 
home  again  an  hour  before  dinner.  In  the  evening 
we  read  aloud.  You  can  imagine  our  delightful  days 
in  the  Louvre,  on  the  broad  walks  of  St.  Cloud, 
or  under  the  trees  and  along  the  terrace  of  St.  Ger- 
main. Whether  on  the  Boulevards,  or  on  the  river, 
in  the  churches,  shops,  theatres,  or  restaurants,  we 
are  always  in  the  midst  of  these  throngs  of  merry 
pleasure-loving  French  people.  They  impress  me  as 
grown-up  children  who  want  pretty  things  and  "a 
good  time,"  but  are  far  more  thoughtless  than  inten- 
tionally wicked  —  as  the  Puritan  regards  them.  And 
to  be  amused  is  not  the  only  interest  of  the  Paris  of 
to-day.  These  people  are  wildly  democratic.  "Equal- 
ity" is  a  passion  with  them.  The  kitchen  maid 
respectfully  addresses  the  young  fellow  who  brings 
up  the  coal  as  "Monsieur."  Everywhere  and  in 
every  relation  of  life  this  love  of  equality  occurs. 
The  old  fruit-woman  at  the  corner  expects  and  re- 
ceives the  same  civility  that  belongs  to  "Madame." 
The  rich  and  the  poor  are  found  together  in  their 
pleasures,  and  taking  far  more  pleasure  than  with  us, 
I  am  sure.  Good  nature  and  politeness  are  every- 
where; yet  when  they  give  way,  a  Frenchman  is 
capable  of  more  brutality,  I  think,  than  any  other 
human  being. 

But  no  one  can  realize  who  does  not  live  here  how 


210  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

every  man,  woman,  and  child  hates  Germany. 
\Mien  we  asked  for  Jaeger  flannels  the  other  day, 
the  clerk  declared  that  the  French  did  not  need 
German  clothes.  You  insult  a  person  by  inquiring, 
even  in  the  mildest  way,  if  he  speaks  German.  The 
History  which  the  minister  of  education  approves 
for  French  schools  closes  with  an  appeal  to  the  boys 
to  be  soldiers  and  prepare  to  fight  Germany,  and 
to  the  girls  to  maintain  the  same  "patriotism."  In 
our  peaceful  parlor  we  hear  the  nightly  cheers  for 
Boulanger,  who  lives  only  a  few  doors  away.  Nobody 
can  tell  why  he  is  so  popular,  except  that  he  is 
"brave"  and  doesn't  like  things  as  they  are.  The 
French  must  have  somebody  to  adore,  like  a  senti- 
mental schoolgirl.  Indeed  how  these  Europeans,  in 
the  mass,  like  to  be  managed  and  governed! 

Last  week  the  weather  was  so  fine  we  took  three 
days  in  Picardy.  We  rode  seventy-five  miles  on  our 
bicycles,  one  hundred  and  eighty  on  the  railroad. 
For  cathedrals  we  saw  Beaumont,  Senlis,  Noyon, 
Soissons,Laon  ;and  for  castles,  Chantilly,  Compiegne, 
Coucy,  and  Pierrefonds.  Oh,  such  delicious  country, 
full  of  happy  harvesters !  It  is  pure  joy  to  ride  through 
the  rich  fields.  How  pleasant  to  be  so  independent 
of  trains,  to  be  able  to  take  thirty  miles  a  day  of 
glorious  motion,  seeing  these  beautiful  scenes  where 
World-influencing  dramas  have  been  played !  We  often 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  211 

long  to  make  a  present  of  the  day  we  are  enjoying 
to  some  one  across  the  sea. 

The  chief  crop  of  these  central  plains  at  present 
is  sugar  beets.  They  are  enormous,  and  the  farmers 
draw  them  on  gigantic  wagons  with  six  white  oxen 
to  the  factories.  Men,  women,  and  children  are 
everj^'here  in  the  fields  together,  digging  the  beets, 
burning  the  tops,  and  making  holiday.  When  we 
were  riding  before,  the  most  striking  thing  was  the 
ripe  buckwheat.  Now  the  beets  take  their  turn,  and 
of  course  great  quantities  of  apples,  potatoes,  and 
carrots.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  big  oxen  and  the 
stout  Normandy  and  Percheron  horses.  We  stopped 
at  the  castle  where  the  villain  lived  whose  wickedness 
gave  rise  to  the  story  of  Blue-Beard.  You  will  be 
relieved  to  know  that  at  last  he  was  hung  for  his 
cruelties. 

Our  Boston  paper  says  that  Catharine  S.  has  mar- 
ried Mr.  T.  And  who  is  Mr.  T.,  and  is  it  true?  If 
it  is  true,  I  am  glad  for  her  with  all  my  heart.  Her 
health  will  be  better  and  her  writing  less  nervous, 
if  once  she  is  taken  care  of  as  you  and  I  are  so  hap- 
pily. Yes,  my  dear,  I  w  ill  confess  that  your  husband 
is  the  best  man  in  the  world,  except  one.  But  I  don't 
know  what  will  happen  if  life  goes  on  growing  so 
much  better  and  brighter  each  year.  How  does  your 
cup  manage  to  hold  so  much  ?  Mine  is  running  over. 


212         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

and  I  keep  getting  larger  cups;  but  I  can't  contain 
all  my  blessings  and  gladness.  We  are  both  so  well 
and  busy  that  the  days  are  never  half  long  enough. 

Thursday  afternoon  we  left  Avignon,  where  we 
had  a  week  of  great  enjoyment.  John  Stuart  Mill 
and  his  wife  are  buried  there,  and  her  daughter  — 
now  a  woman  of  sixty  —  still  lives  in  their  house.  I 
went  to  see  her.  A  friend  of  hers,  too,  took  me  to 
meet  some  of  the  Provencal  poets,  so  I  drank  tea 
in  a  palace  built  before  1400,  where  to-day  an 
American  lady  lives  whose  daughter  has  married  a 
marquis.  We  had  much  talk  of  America.  The  little 
daughter  of  the  marquis  sat  in  my  lap  and  said  she 
would  go  home  with  me  "  where  the  children  play  in 
English."  I  visited  three  girls'  schools  in  iVvignon, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  got  into  a  convent 
school.  The  one  for  poor  children  was  delightful; 
over  three  hundred  little  things  under  seven  years 
of  age,  the  sisters  devoting  themselves  to  them  with- 
out pay.  But  the  other,  for  the  daughters  of  the 
aristocracy,  was  very  fashionable,  the  teaching  poor, 
and  no  discipline. 

After  Avignon  and  a  day  spent  in  Marseilles,  we 
went  by  train  as  far  as  Frejus.  Since  then  we  have 
been  riding  our  bicycles  along  the  Corniche  Road, 
nearly  two  hundred  miles.  Every  inch  of  it  has  been 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  213 

bliss,  even  the  walk  of  twelve  miles  one  day,  pushing 
our  bicycles  up  hill.  One  night  we  ran  into  this  queer 
little  Italian  town  of  Alassio,  nestling  between  the 
mountains  and  the  sea,  and  found  ourselves  on  a 
noble  bay,  sheltered  on  every  side,  and  in  a  hotel 
which  was  a  convent  until  five  years  ago.  Our  room 
is  the  chapel,  still  keeping  its  sacred  decorations 
and  its  two  long  windows  overlooking  the  unbroken 
sea,  which  rolls  within  twenty  feet  of  our  sunny  bal- 
cony. All  is  so  bewitching  that  instead  of  going  the 
next  morning,  as  we  intended,  we  have  remained 
five  days,  though  we  have  only  the  clothes  we  carry 
on  our  bicycles.  We  lie  in  the  sand,  we  gather  the 
blossoming  flowers,  the  ripe  oranges  and  olives,  and 
are  sure  that  it  is  June  and  not  January.  Anj'thing 
like  this  I  have  never  experienced  before,  and  I 
find  it  unspeakably  fascinating.  Indeed  the  whole 
Corniche  Road  is  enchanting,  with  its  perpetual 
roses,  its  palms  loaded  with  ripening  dates,  and  the 
blue  sea  under  a  cloudless  sky.  You  two  must  cer- 
tainly do  it  sometime.  Married  lovers  could  n't  find 
a  prettier  holiday. 

Here  we  are  in  Venice  looking  out  on  the  Adriatic 
Sea,  where  the  sun  is  setting  like  a  great  ball  of  fire 
that  almost  blinds  my  eyes  when  I  lift  them.  All  the 
morning  that  sun  has  been  streaming  into  our  two 
pretty  rooms.  We  are  having  delicious  weather,  clear 


214  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

and  soft,  like  a  fresh  Spring  day  at  home.  We  sit  in 
the  sunshine,  or  wander  up  and  down  the  narrow 
passage-ways,  or  float  in  fascinating  gondolas,  to 
our  hearts'  content.  Just  under  our  windows,  so  close 
that  we  see  nothing  between,  lie  rows  upon  rows  of 
vessels.  Forests  of  masts  fly  all  flags  that  Webster's 
Dictionary  knows  and  many  others  one  imagines. 
Beyond  these  lie  ocean  steamers,  and  then  the  great 
and  wide  sea.  I  never  felt  so  much  abroad  before. 
This  melancholy  mermaid  city  seems  nothing  short 
of  a  miracle;  for  as  the  eye  rests  on  the  salt  green 
water  stretching  in  every  direction,  it  is  impossible 
to  feel  that  it  is  really  shallow.  Lately  a  road  has 
been  carried  over  half  a  mile  of  water  to  the  main- 
land. As  we  stepped  from  the  train  it  was  perplexing 
to  find  myself  in  a  great  city,  yet  with  no  sound  of 
horse,  carriage,  or  any  of  the  multitude  of  street 
noises  which  we  usually  associate  with  city  life.  The 
cabs  are  black  gondolas,  half  way  between  a  canoe 
and  a  Wellesley  boat,  and  on  them  stands  the  pic- 
turesque Italian  with  his  one  oar,  steering  swiftly 
around  sharp  corners  and  under  low  bridges  which 
cross  the  narrow  spaces  between  high  buildings  on 
either  side.  It  is  altogether  unreal.  At  present  we  are 
devoting  much  time  to  Italian.  Last  week  we  read 
together  an  Italian  book  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pages;  and  in  odds  and  ends  of  time  I  have  read 
in  English  Ruskin's  "Stones  of  Venice,"  Howells' 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  215 

"Venetian  Life,"  Sismondi's  "Italy,"  and  am  half 
through  one  of  Symonds'  books  on  the  Renaissance. 
It  is  good  to  read  the  great  books  about  Italy  while 
among  the  scenes  they  discuss.  How  hard  it  will  be 
some  day  to  break  away  from  the  palace  where  we 
live  and  from  the  daily  sight  of  the  most  beautiful 
church  and  the  most  beautiful  pictures  that  the  world 
contains !  We  know  we  ought  to  go  south.  But  a 
spell  is  on  us.  There  is  always  another  picture  to  see 
of  Titian  or  Veronese  or  Tintoret  or  Bellini  or 
Carpaccio,  and  we  linger. 

Mother,  dear,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  something 
important  in  the  history  of  our  family  happened  on 
this  day  thirty-five  years  ago.  I  think  I  cannot  be 
mistaken  in  fixing  so  fundamental  a  date,  though  you 
may  have  been  too  youthful  to  retain  a  distinct  recol- 
lection of  the  event.  But  I  who  profited  by  that  mar- 
riage more  than  any  one  else,  by  at  least  twenty-one 
months,  am  heartily  grateful  to  you  for  doing  it,  and 
send  my  congratulations  on  the  day. 

We  are  keeping  the  festival  in  royal  fashion,  spend- 
ing the  perfect  Spring  day  in  the  country  at  Hadrian's 
Villa  and  Tivoli.  All  the  superb  morning  we  have 
been  driving  among  the  hills  and  valleys  and  olive- 
slopes  and  vineyards,  seeing  snowy  mountains,  rivers, 
city,  and  plain,  with  now  and  then  a  Robbia  in  a 
country  church  or  an  old  convent  fresco.  The  Sabine 


216  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Mountains  are  on  one  side  of  us,  the  Alban  Hills  on 
the  other,  and  our  road  of  twenty  miles  runs  through 
fresh  green  fields.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  P.  have  been  with 
us  —  he  a  writer,  she  an  artist  —  and  Mr.  E.  too,  who 
is  an  intimate  friend  of  Cardinal  Hohenlohe.  This 
Cardinal  owns  the  beautiful  Villa  d'  Este,  and  our 
sculptor  took  us  through  its  stately  rooms  and  its 
fascinating  gardens.  There  we  heard  the  nightin- 
gales, singing  among  cypresses  that  are  many  centu- 
ries old.  The  whole  day  has  been  a  dream  of  delight, 
one  of  the  most  interesting  since  we  came  abroad  — 
high  praise  indeed! 

We  have  been  in  Rome  several  weeks  and  have 
given  up  practically  all  our  time  to  sightseeing,  some- 
thing which  we  never  intend  to  do.  G.  declares  that 
he  is  ashamed  of  having  seen  so  many  things.  We 
always  try  to  keep  half  our  day  for  study  and  home, 
and  I  am  sure  that  in  this  way  we  gain  more  than  the 
sightseers.  But  somehow  in  Rome  every  one  catches 
the  fever,  and  the  number  of  wretched  old  ruins  and 
scandalously  tawdry  and  dirty  churches  that  one  can 
manage  to  gaze  at  and  pry  about  is  amazing;  and  all 
this  fuss  because  here  some  old  Roman  set  up  a 
column  to  commemorate  his  brutal  battles,  or  there 
some  saint  is  imagined  to  have  caused  a  spring  of  oil 
to  burst  from  the  stones,  or  to  have  walked  about 
with  his  head  in  his  hands  among  the  soldiers  who 


SABBATICAL  YEARS  217 

cut  it  off.  But  we  have  seen  so  many  bones  of  saints 
and  martyrs  that  we  are  now  too  hardhearted  any 
longer  to  glance  their  way. 

While  our  bicycles  are  being  passed  from  one 
country  to  the  other,  I  sit  on  a  stone  by  the  roadside 
and  write  to  you.  The  whole  population  of  the  village 
is  assembled  to  see  what  a  lady  with  a  bicycle  can 
mean ;  and  all  the  people  are  tipping  my  saddle  and 
wondering  over  the  cyclometer,  astonished  that  such 
a  little  thing  can  measure  distance.  It  really  tells  us 
that  we  have  ridden  more  than  a  thousand  miles 
already  in  France  and  Italy.  We  are  now  on  our  way 
from  Venice  to  Vienna.  We  ride  about  thirty-five 
miles  a  day.  Tuesday  we  were  on  the  wide  plain  of 
Northern  Italy  and  visited  Asolo,  the  poet  Brown- 
ing's last  country  home.  We  saw  his  house  and  gar- 
den. In  the  Italian  towns  we  came  upon  many 
splendid  pictures.  Yesterday  we  reached  the  moun- 
tain chain  which  divides  Italy  from  x\ustria,  and  ever 
since  have  been  climbing  up  or  running  down  hills, 
following  the  beds  of  narrow  streams  which  cut  their 
way  down  snow-peaked  mountains.  The  streams 
are  very  full,  and  the  sound  of  mountain  torrents  is 
always  with  us.  It  is  a  strange,  wild  country,  strange 
people  too,  so  excited  at  seeing  me  on  a  bicycle  that 
the  town  hurries  to  watch  us  pass.  As  we  fly  by,  the 
women  drop  their  baskets,  cross  themselves,  and  lift 


218  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

their  hands,  crying,  "O  Madonna  mia!"  G.  says 
it  is  the  greeting  of  "  the  new  woman  "  by  the  old,  and 
"the  new"  does  n't  even  stop  to  listen. 

But  I  must  tell  you  how  we  are  crossing  the 
frontier.  A  little  river  separates  the  two  countries, 
with  Pontrebba  on  the  Italian,  and  Pontafel  on  the 
Austrian  side.  Both  ends  of  the  bridge  are  guarded 
by  three  tremendous  officials,  each  in  the  uniform 
of  his  native  land,  the  two  sets  within  easy  talking 
distance.  We  rode  up  to  the  three  Italians,  dis- 
mounted, and  presented  our  paper  asking  for  the 
eighty-five  francs  exacted  on  our  bicycles  when  we 
entered  Italy,  and  destined  to  be  returned  when  we 
depart.  You  would  suppose  no  event  of  similar  con- 
sequence had  occurred  in  a  century.  It  is  impossible 
to  report  the  consultations,  the  expeditions  to  other 
parts  of  the  town,  the  hunting  up  of  dignitaries  that 
followed.  An  Austrian  was  finally  summoned  from 
his  end  of  the  bridge,  the  chief  Italian  swung  a  gun 
over  his  shoulder,  and  we  were  led  across  half  a  mile 
to  the  Austrian  Custom  House,  w^here  our  bicycles 
were  deposited,  probably  to  make  sure  they  would 
be  out  of  Italy  when  we  received  our  money.  We 
ourselves  returned  in  procession  to  Italy,  our  hands 
full  of  documents,  and  even  then  had  to  go  to  two 
other  places  before  the  money  was  paid.  We  reached 
the  bridge  at  9.30,  and  are  just  leaving  it  at  12.15. 
Our  Italian  chief  would  not  attend  to  anything  for 


SABBATICAL   YEARS  219 

half  an  hour,  "because  the  train  would  pass  then," 
so  we  were  obliged  to  sit  and  meditate  until  that 
event  occurred.  Fancy  these  people  in  Chicago ! 
Nirvana  is  the  only  place  where  they  will  feel  really 
at  home.  But  nothing  can  stop  the  delight  of  the  day. 
It  is  very  early  Spring.  The  cuckoos  are  calling,  the 
cherry  trees  are  in  blossom,  and  the  grass  is  at  its 
greenest.  Here  we  leave  dear  Italy  and  must  begin 
at  once  to  limber  up  our  German  tongues.  One  of 
those  words  makes  such  a  big  mouthful  that  I  choke 
and  sneeze  in  spite  of  myself. 


SI 

CAMBRIDGE 

On  leaving  Wellesley  Mrs.  Palmer  had  her  first 
opportunity  to  become  a  lady  of  leisure.  Up  to  this 
time  she  had  been  steadily  under  compulsion.  The 
desire  for  education,  the  need  of  earning  her  own 
support,  the  demands  of  schools  or  the  college  with 
which  she  was  connected,  laid  their  necessitating 
hands  upon  her  successive  years  and  allowed  her 
little  freedom  of  choice.  Now  such  severities  were 
ended.  She  was  to  live  in  comfort,  surrounded  by 
all  the  opportunities  for  study,  society,  and  travel 
which  were  especially  congenial  to  her.  Official  ties 
were  snapped.  She  had  performed  a  difficult  public 
work,  climbing  through  it  from  obscurity  to  note, 
and  she  was  still  but  thirty-two.  For  most  of  us  at 
that  age  the  tasks  of  life  lie  directly  ahead ;  for  Mrs. 
Palmer  they  were  already  behind. 

And  a  lady  of  leisure  of  a  peculiar  sort  Mrs.  Palmer 
actually  became.  Henceforth  she  did  what  she 
pleased.  I  have  called  this  last  period  of  her  career 
her  time  of  Self -Expression,  because  all  that  was 
done  in  it  sprang  from  the  glad  prompting  of  disci- 
plined powers  rather  than  from  any  pressure  of  out- 


CAMBRIDGE  221 

ward  obligation.  Her  times  were  in  her  hand;  her 
own  interests  she  was  free  to  follow.  This  portion  of 
my  book  will  show  how  she  followed  them.  Pro- 
foundly dear  as  they  were,  of  course  she  followed 
them  with  energy,  and  even  allowed  them  to  make 
the  fourth  period  of  her  life  as  active  as  the  third. 
But  it  was  a  voluntary  and  exultant  activity.  Who- 
ever saw  her  during  these  years  remarked  in  her  new 
buoyancy  and  a  wilder  power.  The  shelter  of  a  home 
had  enlarged  her  scope.  From  special  labor  in  a  par- 
ticular spot  she  advanced  to  general  influence  in  the 
whole  field  of  girls'  education.  The  occupations  of 
her  thirteen  winters  in  Cambridge  I  relate  here,  but 
I  give  them  in  a  classified  summary  rather  than  in 
detailed  chronological  sequence. 

Underneath  them  all  ran  a  rich  domestic  life, 
though  several  years  passed  after  Mrs.  Palmer's 
marriage  before  she  acquired  a  permanent  and  ade- 
quate home.  That  is  something  hard  to  find  in  Cam' 
bridge.  The  University  occupies  the  centre  of  the 
town.  Around  it  gather  shops,  churches,  factories, 
stables,  lodging  houses;  but  the  number  of  private 
dwellings  is  small.  WTioever  possesses  one  in  the 
college  neighborhood  does  not  readily  part  with  it. 
Those  who  connect  themselves  with  the  University 
for  the  first  time  have  ordinarily  an  uncomfortable 
preliminary  season,  during  which  they  sit  at  a  dis- 
tance, like  fishhawks  on  a  tree,  spying  after  some* 


222  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

thing  to  seize.  On  the  whole,  we  passed  this  awkward 
period  more  easily  than  most  of  our  colleagues. 
Between  the  wedding  and  the  departure  for  Europe 
there  were  but  six  months.  During  these,  and  for  a 
year  after  our  return,  we  took  houses  already  fur- 
nished on  Broadway  and  Brattle  Streets.  Then  for 
three  years  we  occupied  the  Deanery  of  the  Episcopal 
Theological  School,  until  in  1894  we  established  our- 
selves in  the  historic  house  at  the  corner  of  the  College 
Yard  and  Quincy  Street.  This  house,  built  about 
1815,  was  bought  by  the  College  twenty  years  later, 
was  equipped  as  an  observatory,  and  made  the  resi- 
dence of  its  first  Professor  of  Astronomy.  Later  it  was 
occupied  successively  by  President  Felton,  Bishop 
Huntington,  and  for  thirty-three  years  by  the  saintly 
Dr.  Andrew  Preston  Peabody.  We  readjusted  its 
interior  to  our  needs,  constructing  a  large  library 
and  arranging  Mrs.  Palmer's  study  and  waiting 
rooms  so  that  in  receiving  one  caller  she  need  not  be 
disturbed  by  the  coming  of  another.  To  this  house 
she  became  strongly  attached.  In  it  her  complex 
work  was  done  with  the  utmost  convenience;  here 
she  easily  assembled  several  hundred  guests;  its 
plain  old-fashioned  comfort  made  shy  students  feel 
at  home ;  and  it  was  but  fifteen  minutes  distant  from 
those  parts  of  Boston  to  which  business  called  her 
oftenest.  An  old  house  harbors  peace  better  than  a 
new  one.   At  11  Quincy  Street  Mrs.  Palmer  found 


CAMBRIDGE  223 

Ibat  peace,  found  too  the  dignified  surroundings  to 
which  her  ideahzing  affections  most  naturally  clung. 
Nearly  half  her  life  had  been  passed  within  college 
walls,  until  the  august  connection  had  become  al- 
most a  part  of  her  being.  Here,  among  the  buildings, 
trees,  and  grounds  of  our  stateliest  university  that 
tie  continued,  but  in  a  form  which  freed  it  from 
all  burdensome  responsibility. 

When  she  left  Wellesley  I  wondered  how  the  busi- 
ness of  housekeeping  would  suit  her.  Few  young 
married  women  have  had  so  little  experience  of  it. 
For  fifteen  years,  almost  uninterruptedly  since  she 
left  her  early  home,  she  had  been  an  inmate  of  some 
sort  of  institution,  where  attention  to  the  daily  bread 
had  been  the  charge  of  some  other  person  than  her- 
self. Her  rooms  were  generally  already  prepared, 
and  the  care  of  them,  with  the  heating  and  lighting, 
was  delegated  to  an  official.  Her  special  occupations 
were  as  remote  as  possible  from  such  affairs.  Indeed 
in  these  matters  I  w^as  more  experienced  than  she, 
having  managed  my  own  home  for  the  nine  preceding 
years  and  become  somewhat  proficient  in  the  simpler 
forms  of  cookery.  Whether  rivalry  with  my  accom- 
plishments stimulated  her,  or  whether  success  here 
was  simply  another  instance  of  that  versatility  which 
usually  enabled  her  to  do  with  instantaneous  excel- 
lence whatever  she  was  called  to  do,  I  cannot  say; 
but  fiertainly  almost  from  the  beginning  she  showed 


224         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

herself  the  skilful  mistress  of  her  household.  She 
was  about  as  often  consulted  by  bewildered  house- 
keepers on  puddings,  carpets,  and  servants,  as  by 
teachers  in  regard  to  situations  and  text-books.  In 
all  things  an  artist,  she  prided  herself  on  the  beauty 
and  orderliness  of  her  home  and  was  constantly 
studying  how  more  intelligence  might  be  brought 
into  domestic  methods.  A  few  details  in  regard  to 
the  daily  conduct  of  that  home  will  picture  her 
housewifery. 

From  the  first  she  was  our  financial  manager. 
Whatever  money  was  received  by  either  of  us  was  put 
into  her  safe-keeping ;  and  it  was  she  who  then  appro- 
priately distributed  it  to  tradesmen,  pockets,  and 
banks.  The  skilful  planning  of  how  to  extract  the 
largest  enjoyment  from  a  given  outlay  was  a  game 
she  delighted  to  play,  and  I  think  her  favorite  volume 
was  her  classified  account  book.  Her  table,  while 
offering  few  articles  at  a  meal,  must  have  these 
exquisitely  cooked  and  widely  varied  from  day  to 
day.  Her  rooms  must  each  have  their  distinctive 
note ;  in  those  used  chiefly  by  herself  were  gathered 
mementoes  of  her  childhood  and  the  faces  of  those 
with  whom  she  had  since  been  associated.  Seldom 
did  she  order  a  hat  or  dress  outright;  she  would 
choose  good  stuffs,  but  must  give  them  her  own 
individual  touch.  Her  wardrobe,  therefore,  most 
expressive  of  herself,  cost  her  incredibly  little;  she 


CAMBRIDGE  225 

ever  setting  taste  above  expenditure,  and  often  quot- 
ing in  this  connection  the  lines  of  an  old  poet, — 

Say  not  then  this  with  that  lace  will  do  well. 
But  this  with  my  discretion  will  be  brave. 

In  servants  she  was  insistent  on  personal  quality,  pre- 
ferring the  capable  green  girl  to  the  one  who  already 
"  knew  it  all."  Such  a  one  she  would  quickly  attach, 
carefully  train,  and  then  trust  with  large  responsi- 
bility. Each  servant  must  have  a  room  of  her  own, 
be  treated  as  a  member  of  the  household,  and  be 
allowed  to  go  and  come  at  her  own  discretion,  pro- 
vided always  that  her  work  was  exactly  performed. 
Mutual  consideration  was  soon  established;  and 
though  Mrs.  Palmer  paid  no  excessive  wages,  she 
was  a  stranger  to  "the  servant  problem."  One  ser- 
vant was  with  her  for  ten  years  and  others  for 
periods  approximately  long. 

In  all  this  domestic  side  of  life  she  took  great 
pleasure,  becoming  a  joyous  expert  not  merely  in 
that  cheap  thing  "domestic  science,"  but  in  the 
subtler  matters  of  domestic  art.  Powers  trained 
elsewhere  were  quickly  adjusted  to  the  home  and 
used  for  the  comfort  of  those  she  loved.  When  at 
one  time  she  was  struggling  with  a  new  cook  on  the 
subject  of  bad  bread,  and  after  encountering  the  usual 
excuses  of  oven,  flour,  and  yeast,  had  invaded  the 
kitchen    and    herself   produced    an    excellent    loaf; 


226  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

astonished  Bridget  summed  up  the  situation  in  an 
epigram  which  deserves  to  be  recorded :  "  That 's 
what  education  means  —  to  be  able  to  do  what 
you've  never  done  before." 

Naturally,  having  created  so  beautiful  a  home, 
she  used  it  liberally  for  entertainment,  though  no 
sharp  distinction  was  ever  drawn  between  entertain- 
ment and  business.  Three  children  of  friends  were 
with  us  for  more  than  a  year  each,  and  almost  every 
meal  had  also  its  interesting  guest.  With  most  of  the 
colleges  of  the  country  she  had  some  connection; 
and  no  week  in  the  year  passes  without  a  wanderer 
from  one  of  them  appearing  in  Cambridge.  Gener- 
ally he  appeared  at  her  table,  with  no  great  pressure 
was  induced  to  spend  the  night,  and  then  what 
detailed  and  eager  talk  was  heard  about  the  policies 
and  prospects  of  his  college !  What  feasible  proposals 
she  would  offer  for  its  strengthening !  How  fitted  to 
their  surroundings  were  the  candidates  she  named 
for  its  instructors!  Her  hospitable  mind  admitted 
no  notion  of  colleges  as  rivals ;  all  were  alike  members 
of  the  one  army  of  education.  At  other  meals  ap- 
peared the  young  women  whose  opening  fortunes 
required  an  assisting  hand.  There  came,  too,  direc- 
tors of  her  many  societies  and  the  members  of  in- 
numerable committees.  Poor  people  came,  whose 
only  reason  for  coming  was  hopelessness.  And  here 
also  gathered  her  host  of  personal  friends,  eagei 


CAMBRIDGE  227 

always  to  gaze,  to  listen,  and  to  be  quickened.  Often 
of  an  evening,  and  always  on  Tuesday  and  Sunday 
afternoons,  there  were  Harvard  students,  some  bring- 
ing notes  of  introduction,  some  already  counting  them- 
selves her  children,  and  easily  getting  their  slender 
claims  acknowledged.  With  them  all  she  talked 
much,  gaily  or  gravely,  as  occasion  required.  By 
turns  she  was  suggestive,  inspiring,  consolatory,  or 
simply  amusing;  ever  light  of  touch,  ready  of  anec- 
dote, charming  all  and  setting  all  at  ease,  while  the 
plainest  fact  was  not  allowed  to  pass  without  some 
shining  word,  or  the  merriest  jest  without  its  hold  on 
reality.  This  perpetual  mingling  of  sobriety  and 
play  was  hers  from  childhood.  I  was  often  reminded 
of  Shenstone's  heroine:  — 

With  her  mien  she  enamors  the  brave; 

With  her  wit  she  engages  the  free; 
With  her  modesty  pleases  the  grave; 

She  is  every  way  pleasing  to  me. 

Of  her  relations  with  my  own  work  I  may  say  that 
while  she  assisted  me  in  making  acquaintance  with 
my  students  and  had  much  influence  over  student 
life  in  general,  for  philosophy  itself  she  had  no 
natural  inclination,  its  speculative  side  being  pecu- 
liarly foreign  to  her.  She  was  a  woman  of  action, 
ideals,  and  practical  adjustments.  But  none  the  less 
she  honored  what  she  did  not  herself  pursue,  and 
felt  strongly  the  vital  issues  of  the  ethical  doctrines 


228         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

which  it  was  mine  to  elaborate.  With  full  under* 
standing  and  sympathy  she  discussed  the  less  techni- 
cal parts  of  my  studies  and  offered  her  mind  as  a 
field  for  experimentation.  Whatever  I  wrote  was 
submitted  to  her  exacting  taste.  But  in  all  our 
intellectual  companionship  there  was  no  merging; 
each  had  his  and  her  special  interests,  to  which  the 
other  came  merely  as  a  novice.  I  was  as  ignorant 
of  her  school  problems  and  of  what  was  being  done 
for  the  training  of  girls  as  she  of  my  dialectics.  Her 
style  of  speech  and  writing  remained  her  own,  widely 
unlike  mine.  We  prized  the  strength  of  difference 
rather  than  that  of  identity,  though  pleased  at  any 
parts  within  us  which  happened  to  be  interchange- 
able. Usually  she  took  charge  of  the  kitchen,  and  I 
of  the  college;  but  when  she  was  called  for  a  time 
to  Chicago  or  elsewhere  to  manage  a  college,  she  left 
the  kitchen  to  me.  If  one  of  us  had  promised  a  public 
address  and  was  suddenly  disabled,  the  other  ap- 
peared. Contrasted  and  supplemental  occupations, 
profound  sympathy,  and  occasional  substitutions 
formed  our  happy  bond.  St.  Paul  says  that  "love 
envieth  not,"  but  is  glad  when  the  loved  one  pos- 
sesses what  he  lacks. 

In  describing  the  activities  of  her  winter  month? 
I  linger  longr  over  the  home  and  its  habits,  because 

Do 

in  her  judgment  —  and  in  that  also,  I  believe,  of 
those  who  knew  her  best  —  the  roots  of  her  power 


CAMBraDGE  229 

were  there.  People  sometimes  spoke  of  her  as  a 
"  public  character,"  not  noticing  how  the  phrase  — 
though  true  —  blots  what  was  most  distinctive  of  her. 
Her  publicity  was  but  an  expression  of  her  private 
womanhood.  She  was  the  same  person  everywhere. 
Led  by  broad  popular  sympathies  to  improve  the 
conditions  of  her  sex,  she  preserved  in  a  public  field 
the  simplicity,  ease,  dignity,  and  refinement  which 
graced  her  fireside.  She  did  not  turn  to  occupations 
outside  the  home  because  those  within  it  were  dis- 
tasteful; but  powers  already  exceptional  when  she 
entered  that  home  became  there  so  refreshed, 
gladdened,  and  enlarged  that  they  overflowed  the 
usual  bounds  and  ran  forth  in  multitudinous 
blessing.  I  have  said  in  discussing  our  marriage 
that  something  of  this  sort  was  from  the  first  our 
hope.  And  so  it  proved.  The  work  begun  at 
Wellesley  was  not  broken  during  the  fifteen  years  in 
Cambridge,  but  was  vastly  assisted  by  the  surround- 
ings of  a  home.  What  was  that  work?  Was  it  as 
fragmentary  as  it  sometimes  seemed,  or  had  it  inner 
unity  and  a  ground  in  public  needs  ?  Before  marking 
out  its  several  sections,  it  will  be  well  to  fix  attention 
for  a  moment  on  its  genuine  unity. 

The  times  were  critical  when  Mrs.  Palmer  ap- 
peared. Social  transformations  were  in  progress. 
Girls  were  just  emerging  from  sheltered  homes, 
desirous  of  education  and  of  whatever  else  might 


230  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

help  to  enlarge  their  lives.  Many  feared  that  such 
desires  might  dispose  them  to  drop  the  quietness, 
delicacy,  and  spiritual  power  which  were  hereditarily 
theirs  and  to  admit  into  their  natures  the  ruder  forces 
of  our  turbulent  world.  INIost  social  changes  involve 
danger.  Mrs.  Palmer  did  much  to  lessen  this  danger 
and  to  quiet  these  fears.  She  not  only  opened  college 
doors,  but  she  helped  to  fix  a  standard  of  what  college 
girls  should  be.  Persuasively  and  in  her  own  person 
she  showed  how  a  deepened  intelligence  and  a  wider 
knowledge  of  affairs  may  heighten  the  characteris- 
tic and  ancestral  traits  of  woman  and  permanently 
increase  her  charm.  Each  of  Mrs.  Palmer's  under- 
takings in  this  her  culminating  period  represents  a 
single  aspect  of  the  one  aim,  to  guide  the  emancipa- 
tion and  integrity  of  women,  particularly  as  these  are 
affected  by  education.  A  priestly  and  impalpable  task 
it  was,  to  become  the  watcher  of  a  social  transition ; 
but  it  was  an  immensely  important  task,  and  one  for 
which  she  was  singularly  fitted.  The  several  forms 
which  this  aim  assumed  I  now  describe. 

In  the  first  place  she  kept  her  allegiance  to  Welles- 
ley,  and  to  it  gave  a  large  amount  of  time.  That  col- 
lege is  governed  by  a  large  Board  of  Trustees,  but 
its  immediate  direction  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Presi- 
dent and  a  small  Executive  Committee.  On  this 
committee  Mrs.  Palmer  accepted  a  place,  and  was 
seldom  absent  from  its  meetings.    She  had  her  dis- 


CAMBRIDGE  231 

linct  lines  of  policy  there,  but  in  working  with  others 
it  was  her  habit  rather  to  inspire  than  to  dictate.  She 
would  open  up  a  subject,  state  the  facts,  explain  the 
principles  involved,  draw  attention  to  the  essential 
features  of  the  case,  and  wait  for  others  to  offer  their 
opinions.  By  conviction  she  was  patient  of  debate, 
believing  that  no  matter  is  ever  really  settled  till  all 
its  points  are  discussed.  When  a  decision  was  to  be 
reached,  she  liked  better  to  have  it  brought  about  by 
the  judgment  of  others  than  through  her  advocacy. 
In  deliberations  with  her  one  got  the  impression  of 
a  person  who  has  no  way  of  her  own,  but  who  merely 
joins  with  others  in  a  common  search  for  the  best 
way. 

Such  a  spirit  of  moderation,  tact,  and  respect  for 
dissenting  opinions  was  peculiarly  needed  on  the 
Wellesley  committee  during  her  membership;  for 
the  college  was  then  passing  through  grave  transi- 
tions. Three  presidents  came  successively  into 
office,  all  strong  and  independent  women,  much 
unlike  herself,  all  chosen  with  her  approval  and  ever 
her  constant  friends.  Then  certain  arrangements  of 
the  college  made  by  its  founders  underwent  con- 
siderable change.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Durant  had  estab- 
lished and  highly  valued  a  low  tuition  fee,  a  system 
of  daily  domestic  work,  "Silent  Times,"  and  fre- 
quent a-ttendance  on  religious  exercises.  As  the 
college  grew,  these  provisions  conflicted  with  more 


232  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

important  interests  and  were  one  after  the  other 
removed.  But  much  time  and  mutual  forbearance 
were  needed  for  changes  so  fundamental.  Mrs. 
Palmer  favored  them  all,  working  toward  them  in 
company  with  Mrs.  Durant  —  the  sturdy  defender 
of  her  husband's  plans  so  long  as  defence  was  likely 
to  effect  anything ;  but  who,  when  the  new  order  was 
established,  showed  herself  as  loyal  to  it  as  to  the 
old.  During  this  period,  too,  it  became  necessary 
to  find  a  new  treasurer,  to  adopt  a  new  system  of 
financial  control  and  report,  and  in  general  to  trans- 
fer the  college  from  private  to  public  guardianship. 
All  this  the  Trustees  would  have  found  impossible 
without  the  cooperation  and  magnanimity  of  Mrs. 
Durant;  but  under  the  best  of  circumstances  it 
brought  on  them,  and  especially  on  the  executive 
committee,  a  burdensome  amount  of  care.  Of  this 
care  Mrs.  Palmer  took  her  full  share,  as  she  did  also 
of  the  selection  of  teachers,  the  assistance  of  poor 
students,  and  the  raising  of  funds  both  for  them  and 
for  the  many  needs  of  the  expanding  college.  What- 
ever helps  a  girls'  college  she  believed  helps  men  and 
women  everywhere. 

She  was  consequently  ready  to  aid  other  colleges 
beside  Wellesley.  In  1892  the  University  of  Chicago 
was  founded  and  called  us  to  two  of  its  chairs;  she 
to  be  Professor  of  History  and  Dean  of  Women,  I  to 
be  the  head  of  the  department  of  Philosophy.  It  was 


CAMBRIDGE  233 

an  attractive  offer.  Here  once  more  pioneer  work 
gave  opportunity  for  that  creative  power  in  which 
she  had  ah'cady  proved  herself  strong.  Most  of  those 
engaged  in  organizing  the  novel  university  she  knew 
well,  and  many  of  its  Faculty  were  her  personal 
friends.  She  admired  the  wisdom  of  its  chief  founder, 
who  accepted  no  place  on  its  Board  of  Trustees, 
selected  or  rejected  none  of  its  teachers,  gave  no 
money  to  its  buildings,  but  provided  liberal  means 
for  carrying  on  a  university  so  far  as  others  might 
come  forward  to  construct  it.  Of  course  she  approved 
the  provision  of  its  constitution  which  opens  to 
women  as  well  as  men  all  its  opportunities  of  study 
and  teaching ;  for  in  her  judgment,  and  in  mine  too, 
coeducation  is  the  goal  at  which  all  colleges  must 
ultimately  arrive.  Yet  in  spite  of  these  attractions, 
and  the  fact  that  the  salaries  offered  were  three  times 
what  we  then  received  in  Cambridge,  her  voice  was 
from  the  first  against  accepting  the  calls.  She  loved 
her  home.  She  cared  little  for  money,  having  mod- 
est tastes  and  much  enjoyment,  as  I  have  already 
shown,  in  getting  large  results  from  small  outlays. 
My  roots,  she  thought,  were  too  deep  in  Harvard 
soil  for  removal  to  be  quite  honorable.  She  doubted 
whether  our  scholarly  opportunities  in  Chicago 
would  equal  those  in  Cambridge,  did  not  like  to 
interpose  such  a  distance  between  herself  and  Wel- 
lesley,  and  perhaps  dreaded  the  wear  and  tear  to 


234  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

which  she  would  be  exposed  by  another  absorp- 
tion in  college  duties.  We  accordingly  declined  the 
call. 

But  President  Harper  was  insistent.  Founding  for 
the  first  time  a  great  coeducational  university  in  a 
city,  he  desired  Mrs.  Palmer's  planning  and  superin- 
tendence, even  if  she  were  not  to  be  continuously  on 
the  ground.  He  proposed,  therefore,  that  she  should 
accept  the  Deanship  of  Women,  without  teaching, 
and  with  no  obligation  to  reside  in  Chicago  more 
than  twelve  weeks.  The  periods  of  her  residence 
might  be  distributed  throughout  the  year  according 
to  her  convenience.  In  fact  they  often  fell  in  times 
of  my  recesses,  when  we  could  be  in  Chicago 
together.  She  was  to  have  general  superintendence 
of  the  women's  lodging,  food,  conduct,  and  choice  of 
studies,  and  to  select  a  sub-Dean  to  carry  on  the 
work  in  her  absence.  This  proposal  she  accepted  for 
the  year  1892-93,  and  then,  finding  that  measures 
well  begun  grow  strong  only  by  watching,  she  some- 
what unwillingly  allowed  herself  to  continue  two 
years  more.  By  that  time  the  position  of  the  women 
students  was  assured.  They  were  certain  to  hold  a 
place  in  the  university  no  less  creditable  than  that  of 
the  men.  There  was  no  need  of  her  difficult  service. 
In  June,  1895,  she  resigned,  had  a  successor  ap- 
pointed, and  sailed  away  to  Europe.  But  her  interest 
in  the  university  never  ceased,  nor  did  its  gratitude 


CAMBRIDGE  235 

to  her.  A  group  of  its  friends  have  recently  set  a 
chime  of  bells  in  its  tower,  forever  to  voice  her  praise. 
Wellesley  and  Chicago,  however,  were  not  the  only 
colleges  of  her  care.  Divergent  Radcliffe  was  coming 
into  existence  beside  her  door.  For  a  dozen  years, 
through  a  Society  for  the  Collegiate  Instruction  of 
Women,  girls  had  been  obtaining  more  or  less  teach- 
ing from  Harvard  professors.  In  1894  the  Massa- 
chusetts Legislature  was  asked  to  transform  this 
Society  into  Radcliffe  College,  to  grant  its  students 
degrees,  and  formally  to  attach  it  to  Harvard  Univer- 
sity. In  this  movement  iMrs.  Palmer  took  an  active 
interest.  It  is  true  she  thought  the  coeducational  and 
the  separate  colleges  for  women  have  advantages 
superior  to  anything  the  segregated  type  can  offer. 
Possibly  those  who  devised  the  plan  of  segregation 
were  more  concerned  with  guarding  men's  colleges 
from  change  than  with  enlarging  woman's  opportu- 
nities. Evidently  too  this  subordinated  arrangement 
obliges  women  to  seat  themselves,  as  it  were,  at  a  sec- 
ond table,  where  the  intellectual  food  is  merely  such 
surplus  as  is  not  needed  elsewhere.  Mrs.  Palmer,  at 
least,  did  not  conceal  from  herself  that  such  a  col- 
lege must  always  live  on  favors,  not  on  rights,  that 
the  greater  part  of  its  instruction  is  likely  to  fall  into 
young  and  inexperienced  hands,  and  that  when  its 
teachers  are  pressed  for  time  they  will  withdraw  from 
its  service  and  attend  to  the  superior  claims  of  the 


236  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

men.  But  these  inherent  weaknesses  did  not  dis- 
courage her  hopeful  spirit.  She  was  confident  that 
whatever  errors  the  plan  contained  would  in  time  be 
disclosed  and  amended.  She  trusted  Harvard  schol- 
arship, she  wished  to  extend  its  influence,  and  she 
thought  that  even  a  second  table  in  Cambridge  must 
prove  invigorating  to  hungry  girls.  She  saw  too  how 
in  a  transitional  season  like  ours,  when  parents  are 
slowly  discovering  that  knowledge  harms  girls  as 
little  as  boys,  it  is  well  to  have  that  knowledge 
offered  in  as  wide  a  variety  of  forms  as  possible. 
The  very  differences  therefore  between  Radcliffe  and 
the  other  colleges  commended  the  experiment  to  her 
support. 

In  connecting  the  new  college  with  Harvard  the 
question  arose  whether  degrees  should  be  given  by 
Harvard  itself  or  by  Radcliffe.  Persons  whose  chief 
interest  was  the  education  of  women  favored  the 
former ;  those  who  were  primarily  solicitous  for  Har- 
vard, the  latter  scheme.  It  soon  became  plain  that 
Harvard  must  decline  to  give  the  degrees  unless 
Radcliffe  possessed  at  the  start  an  endowment  of 
not  less  than  $100,000.  Whether  they  would  be 
given  even  then  could  not  be  determined  until  the 
Spring  meeting  of  the  Harvard  Corporation.  In  the 
mean  time  the  Woman's  Education  Association  of 
Boston,  of  which  Mrs.  Palmer  was  president,  took 
up  the  matter  of  endowment  with  enthusiasm,  ap- 


CAMBRIDGE  237 

pointing  her  chairman  of  a  small  committee  charged 
to  raise  the  contemplated  sum.  To  this  endeavor 
her  winter  of  1893-94  was  largely  given.  By  letters, 
by  arranged  interviews,  and  most  of  all  by  personal 
solicitation  she,  in  company  with  a  friend  or  two, 
canvassed  Boston  and  many  more  distant  places. 
Persuasions  of  hers  were  never  easy  to  resist,  and 
before  the  end  of  the  winter  she  had  obtained  over 
$90,000.  When,  however,  the  question  came  before 
the  Harvard  Corporation,  they  decided  by  a  majority 
of  one  to  require  Radcliffe  to  give  its  own  degrees, 
President  Eliot  favoring  the  opposite  policy.  The 
money  raised  by  Mrs.  Palmer  was  accordingly 
returned  to  the  subscribers.  A  few  years  later  she 
aided  in  raising  $110,000  for  Wellesley. 

Having  so  strong  an  interest  in  every  type  of  wo- 
men's college,  Mrs.  Palmer  naturally  gave  much  time 
to  fostering  the  Collegiate  Alumnae  Association. 
This  is  a  league  of  women  graduated  from  the  better 
colleges  throughout  the  country,  who  are  banded 
together  for  educational  and  friendly  purposes.  It 
seeks  to  sort  the  colleges  which  are  open  to  women,  to 
fix  standards  of  excellence,  and  to  bring  pressure  to 
bear  on  those  of  a  low  order  and  induce  them  to  raise 
their  requirements.  No  college  is  admitted  to  mem- 
bership which  does  not  reach  a  certain  grade  in 
entrance  examinations,  in  number  and  efficiency  of 
teachers,  in  size  of  endowment  and  library,  and  in 


238  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

conditions  for  the  Bachelor's  degree.  The  certificate 
of  membership  consequently  becomes  proof  that  its 
holder  is  a  student  of  sound  training.  It  is  accepted 
at  the  universities  both  of  this  country  and  Europe, 
and  admits  a  woman  to  higher  study  without  further 
examination.  Mrs.  Palmer  was  one  of  the  original 
organizers  of  this  association,  and  one  of  its  early 
presidents.  Throughout  her  life  she  attended  its 
meetings  and  served  on  its  two  laborious  committees, 
the  committee  on  membership  and  the  committee  on 
foreign  fellowships ;  the  length  of  her  many  terms  of 
service  in  its  various  offices,  if  added  together,  aggre- 
gating fifty-three  years.  Foreign  fellowships  she  fell 
to  be  matters  of  such  importance  that  she  spent 
much  time  in  sifting  the  candidates,  corresponded 
with  them  while  they  were  abroad,  and  often  raised 
considerable  sums  for  their  support.  Since  her  death 
a  fellowship  of  this  sort  has  been  founded  in  her 
name  by  the  Collegiate  Alumnse  Association;  and 
another,  also  called  by  her  name  and  yielding  an 
income  of  $1000,  has  been  put  in  charge  of  Wellesley 
College. 

1  have  mentioned  the  Woman's  Education  Asso- 
ciation, a  hard-working  body  to  which  Mrs.  Palmer 
gave  many  years  of  fruitful  service.  Certain  public- 
spirited  ladies  of  Boston  had  banded  themselves 
together  "to  promote  the  better  education  of 
women."  By  this  phrase  they  meant  not  the  support 


CAMBRIDGE  239 

of  educational  agencies  already  established,  but  the 
more  difficult  business  of  watchfulness,  invention, 
and  experiment.  It  was  theirs  to  initiate  move- 
ments, to  finance  them  for  a  t'me,  testing  them 
carefully;  and  then  when  they  were  proved  to  have 
worth,  to  turn  them  over  to  independent  organiza- 
tions. In  this  way  they  opened  opportunities  to 
women  in  many  directions  previously  unthought  of. 
Under  their  charge  and  at  their  cost  Harvard  Uni- 
versity was  induced  to  conduct  a  series  of  examina- 
tions for  girls  graduating  from  preparatory  and 
high  schools,  examinations  which  were  afterwards 
put  in  charge  of  Radcliffe  College.  For  them  the 
Massachusetts  Institute  of  Technology  opened  its 
chemical  laboratories.  They  aided  the  study  of 
biology  by  providing  means  for  seaside  summer 
work,  out  of  which  germ  was  developed  the  im- 
portant marine  station  at  Wood's  Hole.  To  them 
too  were  due  the  beginnings  of  the  training  of  (Hs- 
trict  nurses,  the  study  of  home  economics,  the  diet 
kitchen,  emergency  lectures,  sloyd,  travelling  li- 
braries. They  founded  foreign  fellov/ships,  looked 
after  city  schools,  the  vacations  of  working  girls,  the 
poor,  the  deaf,  the  trees  on  Boston  Common  —  in 
short  interested  themselves  in  all  those  matters 
where  women's  watchfulness  can  increase  the  in- 
telligence, beauty,  and  dignity  of  a  city. 

In  1891  this  society  had  fallen  into  decay.    Its 


240  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

meetings  were  slenderly  attended  and  the  question  of 
disbanding  arose.  Finally  it  was  decided  to  continue 
if  Mrs.  Palmer  would  accept  the  presidency.  It  was 
usually  her  habit  to  listen  too  readily  to  calls  of  this 
sort,  and  mine  to  be  fierce  in  opposition.  Her  kind 
heart  was  so  easily  solicited  that  for  her  protection 
a  certain  savagery  was  sometimes  necessary.  But  in 
this  case  our  parts  were  reversed.  I  saw  in  the  soci- 
ety a  power  which,  if  properly  directed,  might  pro- 
duce much;  but  she  proved  strangely  obdurate.  By 
degrees  it  appeared  that,  while  she  did  not  know 
these  ladies,  she  imagined  them  rich,  cold,  and  fash- 
ionable, likely  to  be  alarmed  over  woman  suffrage 
and  coeducation,  "  not  at  all  her  kind."  She,  a  Wes- 
tern girl,  could  never  work  well  with  people  of  that 
sort,  she  said,  nor  could  they  possibly  have  any  liking 
for  her. 

I  hardly  know  how  she  came  at  last  to  accept  their 
presidency  for  a  single  year;  but  once  in,  she  was 
unanimously  reelected  in  nine  successive  years.  She 
herself  soon  discovered  her  mistaken  estimate,  and 
nowhere  did  she  ever  find  a  company  more  loyal  or 
congenial.  The  Association  sprang  into  vigorous 
life.  Its  membership  enormously  increased,  its 
meetings  were  largely  attended;  and  while  wide 
differences  of  opinion  continued  among  its  members 
over  the  proper  scope  of  woman's  activity,  all  shades 
of  belief  were  respected  and  its  committees  aided 


CAMBRIDGE  241 

pretty  diverse  causes.  Where  Mrs.  Palmer  was, 
quarrelling  was  usually  difficult,  frankness  and  mu- 
tual consideration  easy.  But  she  worked  hard.  I 
find  in  her  notebooks  memoranda  of  six  public  meet- 
ings and  six  executive  committee  meetings  a  winter, 
at  all  of  which  she  presided.  For  the  public  meetings 
subjects  must  be  selected  and  notable  speakers 
obtained.  And  though  no  one  could  have  been  more 
efficiently  supported  than  she,  it  was  inevitable  that 
much  of  the  care  of  planning  the  varied  work  of  the 
Association  should  fall  upon  her.  The  year  before 
she  went  abroad  for  the  last  time,  she  insisted  on  her 
resignation  being  accepted,  for  she  did  not  think  it 
well  that  a  society  should  be  too  long  under  a  single 
leader. 

And  since  in  passing  I  have  mentioned  woman's 
suffrage,  perhaps  I  shall  save  Mrs.  Palmer  from 
misconception  if  I  indicate  more  precisely  her  atti- 
tude toward  that  heated  question.  Both  she  and  I 
were  members  of  the  Equal  Suffrage  Association 
and  had  no  doubt  that  eventually  women  will  vote 
as  naturally  and  with  as  little  disturbance  to  the 
community  as  do  men.  She  knew  many  of  the  lead- 
ing suffragists  and  admired  them  for  their  refinement, 
their  patience,  and  their  readiness  to  bear  abuse  in 
the  public  interest.  Such  dispositions  she  counted 
admirably  feminine.  Whenever  she  came  home  aft-er 
meeting  sensible  Mary  Livermore,  or  sweet-voiced 


242  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Lucy  Stone,  or  perpetually  youthful  Julia  Ward 
Howe,  a  new  nobility  seemed  communicated  to  her- 
self. Yet  she  did  not  appear  on  their  platforms  nor 
press  the  legislature  to  grant  their  great  request. 
While  never  concealing  her  sympathies,  and  agree- 
ing with  a  remark  made  to  her  by  Phillips  Brooks, 
that  "  it  frightened  him  to  see  what  civic  govern- 
ment had  come  to,  unaided  by  women,"  she  felt 
that  the  movement  toward  suffrage  was  advancing 
with  great  —  perhaps  with  sufficient  —  rapidity. 
She  was  eager,  before  it  reached  its  conclusion,  to 
give  women  juster  minds,  sounder  bodies,  more 
equable  nerves,  and  a  clearer  consciousness  of  them- 
selves as  something  more  than  pretty  creatures  of 
society.  These  were  the  important  matters ;  suffrage 
but  an  auxiliary,  though  worthy,  crown.  It  could 
wait,  they  could  not.  Then  too  these  were  the  in- 
terests specifically  intrusted  to  her,  and  into  the 
furtherance  of  them  she  threw  herself  with  a  whole- 
hearted zeal  which  was  not  easily  diverted  to  side 
issues. 


CAMBRIDGE  (continued) 

In  1889  Mrs.  Palmer  was  appointed  by  Governor 
Ames  a  member  of  the  Massachusetts  State  Board  of 
Education.  This  position  she  held  during  the  re- 
maining thirteen  years  of  her  life,  being  reappointed 
by  Governor  Greenhalge  and  Governor  Crane,  until 
she  became  the  senior  member  of  the  Board.  The 
Board  consists  of  eight  members  and  has  direct  con- 
trol of  the  normal  schools  only;  but  indirectly  and 
through  oversight  it  influences  all  the  public  instruc- 
tion of  the  state.  At  its  instance  new  legislation  is 
initiated  or,  still  more  important,  prevented.  In  the 
annual  report  of  its  secretary  statistics  of  the  schools 
are  given  and  their  condition  elaborately  set  forth. 
It  employs  half  a  dozen  agents  to  visit  the  schools 
of  the  isolated  sections,  to  learn  about  their  strength 
and  weakness,  and  to  give  friendly  advice  to  the 
teachers.  Under  their  direction  some  twenty-five 
Teachers'  Institutes,  a  sort  of  migratory  normal 
school,  are  held  each  year.  At  these  the  teachers  of 
the  country  towns,  for  the  most  part  women,  assem- 
ble for  acquaintance,  criticism,  and  guidance.    Long 


244  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

regular  meetings  of  the  Board  are  held  each  month; 
special  meetings  as  often  as  business  requires. 

To  this  oversight  of  the  public  schools  Mrs.  Palmer 
devoted  an  incalculable  amount  of  time,  tact,  and 
experience.  She  visited,  corresponded,  interviewed, 
served  on  committees,  appealed  to  the  legislature, 
and  with  such  success  that  at  her  death  the  normal 
schools,  and  to  a  great  extent  the  country  schools  also, 
had  been  reorganized  and  brought  to  an  efficiency 
unknown  before.  In  1902  the  Secretary  of  the 
Board  could  truthfully  write  that  "in  qualifications 
for  admission  to  its  normal  schools  no  state  has  yet 
adopted  standards  so  high  or  so  satisfactory." 

No  one  would  profess  that  these  important  changes 
were  due  to  Mrs.  Palmer  alone.  That  was  seldom 
true  of  any  of  her  undertakings.  I  have  a  constant 
difficulty  in  narrating  what  she  did,  because  it  is 
always  tangled  with  what  others  did  and  cannot 
be  separately  assessed.  From  the  beginning  her 
public  career  was  one  of  association  and  of  work 
accomplished  in  groups.  Nothing  pleased  her  more 
than  so  to  escape  observation  and,  while  giving  of 
her  best,  to  have  it  merged  in  the  indistinguishable 
best  of  others.  On  the  State  Board  too  she  found 
strong  colleagues  and  a  ready  spirit  of  cooperation. 
My  only  method  therefore  of  describing  this  labori- 
ous section  of  her  life  is  to  set  down  the  improve- 
ments in  the  schools  which  were  effected  during  her 


CAMBRIDGE  245 

term  of  office,  and  to  say  that  in  these  improvements 
her  prudent  mind,  persuasive  tongue,  and  resource- 
ful courage  bore  no  inconsiderable  part. 

During  her  time  the  Massachusetts  Normal  Schools 
were  increased  from  six  to  ten,  and  all  the  original 
six  were  equipped  with  new  buildings.  To  get  the 
bills  passed,  locations  selected,  plans  of  buildings 
drawn  and  executed  for  ten  great  plants,  is  no  slight 
job.  Faithfulness  in  public  service  involves  a  good 
many  plodding  hours.  But  the  internal  reconstruc- 
tion was  more  significant  still.  Its  successive  steps 
were,  I  believe,  the  following.  In  1893  the  permanent 
Secretary  of  the  Board  —  a  devoted  man,  of  some 
limitations,  who  had  kept  the  old  system  steady  for 
seventeen  years  —  retired,  and  the  earlier  concep- 
tion of  a  normal  school  as  a  place  of  general 
education  which  might  well  be  substituted  for  the 
high  school  came  to  an  end.  Thenceforth  only 
high  school  graduates  were  admitted  to  the  normal 
schools,  where  they  immediately  began  to  devote 
themselves  to  professional  study.  Before,  students 
had  been  allowed  to  end  their  work  in  winter  or 
summer;  for  the  future  a  single  graduation  in  June 
was  fixed,  and  the  course  was  solidly  organized  with 
reference  to  a  definite  date.  More  careful  examina- 
tions for  entrance  and  graduation  were  established. 
The  traditional  period  of  study  had  been  but  two 
years.    In  1897  the  schools  at  Avhich  Mrs.  Palmer 


246  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

was  a  visitor,  Bridgewater  and  Hyannis,  had  both 
lengthened  their  courses,  and  in  that  year  a  gen- 
eral vote  was  passed  permitting  the  visitors  and 
principal  of  any  normal  school  to  add  to  its  course 
a  third  year  of  study  and  practice.  It  will  be  under' 
stood  too  that  these  larger  changes  were  accompanied 
by  a  multitude  of  impalpable  ones,  in  short  by  a 
general  elevation  of  scholarly  ideals.  And  this  spirit 
was  the  more  readily  brought  about  because  of  an 
excellent  provision  for  personal  contact  which  had 
always  existed.  By  a  rule  of  the  Board  each  of  its 
members  has  two  schools  under  his  or  her  immediate 
charge.  These  he  is  expected  frequently  to  visit,  to 
become  acquainted  with  their  needs  and  teachers,  to 
preside  at  their  graduations,  and  to  write  an  annual 
report  on  their  condition.  Membership  on  the  State 
Board  of  Education,  though  unpaid,  is  no  sine- 
cure. 

I  have  said  that  the  Board  did  not  confine  itself 
to  normal  schools.  In  the  year  that  Mrs.  Palmer 
joined  it  a  bill  was  passed  encouraging  the  employ- 
ment by  all  country  schools  of  superintendents 
instead  of  local  committees,  allowing  neighboring 
towns  to  combine  in  employing  such  a  superinten- 
dent, and  furnishing  grants  from  the  state  treasury  to 
meet  part  of  the  expense.  A  more  important  measure 
was  carried  in  1891  and  greatly  extended  in  1894. 
This  opened  free  high  schools  to  our  whole  popu' 


CAMBRIDGE  247 

latlon,  for  it  provided  that  a  child  in  any  town  where 
there  is  no  high  school  may  claim  free  tuition  at  the 
school  of  a  neighboring  town.  In  1894,  too,  examina- 
tions were  established  under  the  State  Board  to  test 
the  qualifications  of  candidates  for  teachers  in  the 
elementary  schools.  The  following  year  manual 
training,  of  a  type  to  be  approved  by  the  Board,  was 
required  in  all  high  schools.  The  general  aim  of 
these  changes  was  to  put  within  the  reach  of  the 
country  child  opportunities  for  development  similar 
to  those  which  the  city  child  enjoys.  In  all  this  bene- 
ficent upbuilding  of  the  schools  Mrs.  Palmer  was  a 
tireless  worker.  In  view  of  what  she  did,  her  grateful 
colleagues  have  entered  on  their  records  the  sense 
of  loss  her  death  occasioned  to  the  Commonwealth 
and  have  added  that  always  "her  first  concern  was 
for  the  children  of  the  state,  that  they  should  have 
the  best  facilities  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
the  training  of  their  intellectual  powers,  and  the 
development  of  their  characters;  her  next  was  for 
the  teachers,  especially  those  in  the  humbler  places, 
that  everything  should  be  done  to  make  their  calling 
comfortable  and  dignified.  She  was  courageous 
before  committees  of  the  legislature  in  advocating 
the  measures  deemed  wise  by  the  Board  and  in  seek- 
ing to  avoid  the  evils  of  mischievous  legislation." 
But  how  heavy  a  burden  this  work  for  the  state  laid 
on  her  will  easily  be  understood. 


248  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

It  was  during  her  membership  on  this  board  that 
she  came  forward  in  defence  of  the  schools  against 
improper  temperance  teaching.  One  of  the  more 
extreme  temperance  organizations  attempted  to  put 
text-books  into  the  schools  which  should  paint  the 
effects  of  alcohol  in  colors  dark  enough  to  terrify  all 
users.  Mrs.  Palmer  believed  these  books  to  be  pleas, 
and  not  scientific  statements.  She  thought  them 
exaggerated,  unfitted  to  train  a  child's  sense  of  truth, 
and  therefore  unlikely  in  the  long  run  to  effect  their 
purpose.  With  that  purpose  she  was  in  hearty  agree- 
ment. She  believed  it  had  been  proved  that  alcohol 
is  physically  injurious ;  she  knew  that  it  had  a  closer 
alliance  with  human  misery  than  any  other  agent 
known  to  man;  and  both  she  and  her  parents  had 
long  supported  legal  control  of  the  traffic.  Yet  with 
her  usual  courage  she  faced  misconception,  led  the 
State  Board  in  opposing  the  measure,  fought  it  for 
several  weeks  in  legislative  committees,  and  finally 
killed  the  bill.  One  of  her  colleagues  has  said,  "She 
was  the  most  persuasive  debater  I  ever  knew." 

Much  time  during  the  winters  of  1891  and  1892 
was  given  to  preparing  for  the  Columbian  Exposition 
at  Chicago.  To  plan  and  conduct  there  an  exhibit  for 
Massachusetts  a  board  of  managers  was  appointed 
by  the  Governor,  and  of  the  five  constituting  it  Mrs. 
Palmer  was  one.  Several  meetings  of  this  board 
were  held  each  month.   There  was  a  building  to  be 


CAMBRIDGE  249 

constructed,  exhibits  to  be  gathered,  loans  of  his- 
torical articles  to  be  solicited,  public  interest  to  be 
aroused.  The  managers  had  the  aid  of  a  pecu- 
liarly efficient  executive  commissioner;  but  as  Mrs. 
Palmer  at  this  period  was  often  in  Chicago  on  uni- 
versity duty,  no  little  responsibility  at  the  fair  grounds 
fell  upon  her.  With  the  opening  of  the  fair  social 
functions  began.  Then  too  Massachusetts  made 
education  an  important  feature  of  its  exhibit,  and 
this  required  the  special  oversight  of  Mrs.  Palmer. 
Partly  through  her  influence  the  state  collections  on 
this  subject  were  afterwards  gathered  into  a  perma- 
nent educational  museum.  On  the  whole,  Massa- 
chusetts made  an  exceptionally  complete  and  beau- 
tiful showing  at  the  fair;  but  it  was  managed  with 
such  watchfulness  and  regard  for  public  interests 
that  at  its  close  the  managers  were  able  to  turn  back 
into  the  state  treasury  more  than  a  fifth  of  the  not 
large  appropriation  voted  by  the  legislature. 

When  the  fair  was  projected  many  women's  organ- 
izations throughout  the  country  thought  the  occasion 
a  favorable  one  for  showing  what  had  recently  been 
accomplished  by  their  neglected  half  of  our  race. 
They  accordingly  equipped  a  building  with  an  ex- 
cellent exhibit  of  the  products  of  women's  work, 
extending  all  the  way  from  the  nursery  to  the  fine 
arts.  But  Mrs.  Palmer  did  not  join  them.  In  her 
view  the  dignified  position  of  man  and  woman  is  in 


250  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

comradeship,  and  not  in  places  apart.  She  gladly 
saw  the  exhibits  of  Wellesley  and  Radcliffe  installed 
beside  those  of  the  men's  colleges,  and  took  even  more 
satisfaction  in  what  the  coeducational  colleges  could 
show. 

To  several  other  boards  she  gave  brief  terms  of 
service.  For  many  years  she  was  one  of  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty  corporate  members  of  the  American 
Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions,  in 
company  with  only  six  other  women.  Soon  after  she 
came  to  Cambridge,  she  was  made  President  of  the 
Woman's  Home  Missionary  Association  and  found 
in  its  wide  affairs  a  happy  blending  of  her  religious, 
charitable,  patriotic,  and  educational  aims.  Its  work 
is  largely  among  women  and  children.  Into  the  out- 
lying parts  of  our  country,  where  agencies  of  civiliza- 
tion are  few,  it  carries  material  aid,  intellectual 
instruction,  and  divine  hopes.  Such  a  body  needs 
from  time  to  time  the  impulse  of  a  fresh,  though 
experienced,  executive;  and  this  it  found  in  Mrs. 
Palmer.  During  her  period  of  office  contributions 
were  increased  and  stolid  audiences  stirred  to  help-c 
fulness  by  her  moving  accounts  of  hardship  and 
heroism.  But  to  remain  at  the  head  of  this  congenial 
organization  would  have  removed  her  too  far  from 
the  business  of  education  for  which  she  was  specifi- 
cally trained.  She  therefore  held  the  presidency  for 
only  three  years,  remaining  however  a  vice-president 


CAMBRIDGE  251 

throughout  her  life.  It  was  often  her  way,  when  she 
was  unable  to  engage  continuously  in  tasks  which 
she  counted  important,  to  throw  herself  into  them 
for  a  time  and,  after  imparting  her  own  enthusiasm 
and  business  methods  to  those  about  her,  to  leave 
on  their  hands  the  execution  of  what  she  had  planned. 
Perhaps  her  most  useful  characteristic  was  this 
ability  to  inspire  and  to  deputize. 

When  the  war  with  Spain  was  over,  a  strangely 
friendly  feeling  toward  that  country  appeared 
among  our  people.  On  our  streets  one  could  hardly 
say  which  was  the  more  popular  admiral,  Dewey  or 
Cervera.  To  show  kindness  where  we  had  been 
obliged  to  use  force,  and  to  offer  help  to  a  nation 
trying  to  extricate  itself  from  bonds  of  the  past,  was 
the  desire  of  the  hour.  Everybody  felt  it.  To  the 
Cubans  in  1900  Harvard  opened  freely  its  lecture 
rooms,  and  Mrs.  Palmer  her  home.  The  sixteen 
Cuban  girls  who  spent  the  summer  there  were  under 
the  charge  of  a  remarkable  woman,  JNIrs.  Alice 
Gordon  Gulick.  After  many  years  of  work  in  Spain 
as  a  missionary,  she  had  laid  the  foundations  at  San 
Sebastian  of  an  International  Institute  designed  to 
give  Spanish  girls  such  opportunity  for  advanced 
instruction  as  is  offered  in  our  colleges  and  academies. 
She  knew  very  well  that  intellectual  desires  among 
women  were  as  yet  hardly  astir  in  Spain,  and  that 
the  work  of  awakening  them  would  be  a  long  one. 


252  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

It  was  foreseen  that  most  of  the  necessary  funds 
must  come  from  America.  But  Mrs.  GuHck  had 
much  of  Mrs.  Palmer's  patient  and  stimulating 
power,  and  already  had  made  for  herself  something 
of  a  name  in  Spain.  When  the  war  was  over  the 
International  Institute  was  reorganized,  Mrs.  Palmer 
becoming  its  president  and  Admiral  Sampson  one 
of  its  directors.  Grounds  and  a  building  were  ob- 
tained in  Madrid,  money  for  further  development 
was  solicited,  the  girls'  colleges  of  this  country  were 
pledged  to  aid,  and  one  or  two  slender  classes  were 
graduated.  Just  as  the  prospects  of  ultimate  success 
were  bright,  Mrs.  Palmer  died,  and  her  death  was 
soon  followed  by  that  of  Mrs,  Gulick,  exhausted  in 
the  cause.  But  enough  had  already  been  accom- 
plished by  these  ardent  women  to  mark  the  path 
along  which  others  might  safely  carry  onward  the 
intended  gift  to  Spain. 

Not  until  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
did  it  occur  to  Americans  that  girls  as  well  as  boys 
would  profit  by  the  higher  education.  Even  then 
nothing  so  revolutionary  as  college  training  was 
planned;  but  a  peculiar  sort  of  advanced  school, 
called  a  seminary  or  academy,  began  to  appear  in 
which  it  was  sought  to  "  finish  "  a  girl  by  giving  her 
just  that  amount  of  acquaintance  Avith  intellectual 
things  which  would  quiet  her  mind  without  upset- 
ting it,  and  without  in  any  way  damaging  her  attrac 


CAMBRIDGE  253 

tlon  for  man.  One  of  the  earliest  and  best  of  these 
venturesome  schools  was  Bradford  Academy,  thirty 
miles  from  Boston,  From  1804  to  1836  it  admitted 
boys  and  girls;  after  1836,  girls  only.  For  more  than 
half  a  century  it  had  an  honorable  career,  but  then 
declined  until  its  numbers  were  insufficient  to  main- 
tain its  plant.  Such  schools  almost  inevitably  move 
toward  decay  and  by  a  kind  of  natural  development 
tend  to  supersede  themselves.  The  rising  desire  for 
knowledge  which  they  meet  and  stimulate  passes 
beyond  them;  and  unless  they  are  readjusted  to 
modern  conditions,  they  cease  to  hold  the  place  in 
the  community  which  was  once  rightfully  theirs. 
Bradford  reached  such  a  crisis  in  1900,  when  its 
despairing  trustees  turned  to  Mrs.  Palmer.  They 
wanted  her  to  enter  their  board  and  join  in  an  effort 
of  resurrection.  In  view  of  the  amount  of  her  other 
work,  she  hesitated ;  but  at  last,  finding  that  the  first 
requisite  for  a  successful  school,  a  strong  head,  could 
not  be  had  unless  she  became  a  trustee,  she  con- 
sented. For  the  two  years  before  she  died  Bradford 
was  one  of  her  principal  cares.  During  this  time  it 
passed  from  obscurity  to  a  degree  of  public  favor 
as  great  as  it  had  ever  known.  Able  men  and  women 
joined  its  board  of  trustees;  its  methods  of  study 
were  modernized;  its  teachers  were  increased  and 
their  salaries  raised ;  its  debt  was  checked ;  it  attracted 
as  many  students  as  its  rooms  could  hold ;  and  a  way 


254  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

was  prepared  for  the  enlargement  which  has  gone  on 
since  her  death.  In  this  case,  as  in  many  others,  the 
remarkable  results  cannot  be  called  hers.  Many 
earnest  men  and  women  joined  in  producing  them. 
But  wherever  she  came,  earnest  men  and  women 
were  pretty  sure  to  appear  and  to  find  such  success 
in  their  undertakings  as  they  had  previously  believed 
impossible. 

When  I  was  in  Venice  in  the  summer  of  1905,  I 
needed  help  in  a  little  Italian  business.  Learning 
that  a  certain  lady  might  furnish  it,  I  applied  to  her. 
She  doubted  if  she  had  the  necessary  time.  I  pressed. 
Though  she  spoke  no  English,  she  said  she  had  some 
acquaintance  with  America  and  began  to  inquire 
who  I  was.  I  reported  myself  a  Harvard  professor, 
but  she  remained  obstinate.  Incidentally  I  men- 
tioned that  my  wife  was  formerly  president  of 
Wellesley  College.  Then  all  barriers  went  down.  Was 
I  the  husband  of  Alice  Freeman  Palmer?  She  was 
adored  in  Italy.  Poor  Italians  coming  to  America 
had  been  badly  plundered.  Attempts  had  been  made 
in  several  cities  to  start  a  society  for  their  protection, 
but  with  little  success,  until  in  Boston  it  had  been 
suggested  that  Mrs.  Palmer  should  head  the  move- 
ment. Then  difficulties  disappeared.  I  was  obliged 
to  say  that  I  knew  nothing  of  all  this.  Only  two  inci- 
dents connected  with  it  could  I  subsequently  recall. 
One  day,  in  the  year  she  went  abroad  for  the  last 


CAMBRIDGE  255 

time,  I  picked  up  from  her  desk  a  circular  appealing 
for  the  protection  of  Italian  immigrants.  Making 
some  slurring  remark  about  the  absurdity  of  sending 
such  things  to  an  educational  expert,  I  tossed  the 
paper  down.  She  was  silent.  A  little  later  a  letter 
came,  addressed  to  her  as  president  of  the  league 
for  the  protection  of  Italian  immigrants.  Then  I 
broke  into  hot  remonstrance.  Was  she,  when  already 
strained  by  Bradford  and  much  else,  so  reckless  as 
to  go  outside  her  province  and  take  up  something  for 
which  she  had  no  special  knowledge  or  fitness  ?  She 
glanced  up  from  her  writing  and  gently  said  that  I 
was  taking  things  quite  too  seriously.  She  did  not 
usually  travel  far  from  her  own  field,  nor  had  she 
any  idea  now  of  giving  important  time  to  outside 
affairs.  These  people  certainly  were  in  a  pitiful  case, 
and  some  of  her  friends  had  asked  her  to  lend  her 
name  for  their  aid.  That  was  all.  She  might  preside 
at  a  public  meeting  or  two,  but  could  give  little 
further  attention  to  the  matter.  She  never  mentioned 
the  subject  again.  How  much  she  may  have  done  I 
do  not  know  to-day.  But  three  years  after  she  had 
left  our  earth  I  came  on  the  tracks  of  her  quiet  good 
deeds  in  far-away  Venice. 

Being  known  to  have  uncommon  administrative 
talents  and  entire  readiness  to  place  them  at  the  ser- 
vice of  whoever  needed  them,  she  became  during 
these  years  in  Cambridge  a  kind  of  educational 


256  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

adviser.  Schools  and  colleges  all  over  the  country 
turned  to  her  in  their  perplexities,  seldom  in  vain. 
She  knew  the  right  candidate  to  recommend  for 
professor,  dean,  trustee,  or  even  president,  and 
she  chose  him  with  singular  adaptation  to  his  en- 
vironment. In  discussing  problems  of  administration 
she  was  ingenious  in  suggestion,  divining  by  a  kind 
of  instinct  what  would  or  would  not  work  under  the 
given  circumstances.  Only  the  circumstances  must 
be  actual,  in  order  to  bring  out  her  best  powers  of 
judgment.  Give  her  a  theoretic  problem  in  educa- 
tional tactics,  and  you  might  find  her  uninterested 
and  get  a  commonplace  reply.  But  let  her  feel  a 
living  school  or  college  in  difficulty,  and  she  would 
almost  immediately  perceive  some  slirewd  way  out. 
This  dangerous  sagacity  overwhelmed  her  with  cor- 
respondence, a  correspondence  so  personal  that  she 
generally  preferred  to  conduct  it  with  her  own  pen. 
As  soon  as  she  entered  the  house  she  sat  down  at  her 
desk,  where  she  remained  pretty  steadily  until  sum- 
moned by  callers.  Calls  of  a  formal  sort  she  did  not 
herself  make,  but  only  calls  of  business  and  occa- 
sionally of  refreshment.  During  one  of  her  busiest 
winters  she  spent  half  an  hour  each  week  with  the 
two  children  of  a  Boston  friend.  Throwing  herself 
on  the  floor,  she  built  block  houses  with  them,  told 
stories,  or  dallied  with  Noah's  Ark,  until  the  clock 
announced  a  committee  meeting.   But  calls  on  her- 


CAMBRIDGE  257 

self  were  regarded  as  even  more  sacred  than  letters. 
She  reserved  an  afternoon  a  week  for  them,  besides 
having  them  distributed  through  all  other  days. 
Nobody  was  dismissed  briefly.  By  her  fireside  one 
got  the  impression  that  time  was  lazily  abundant.  I 
think  she  did  not  know  a  bore  when  she  saw  him  — 
and  she  saw  him  under  every  guise.  Sometimes  he 
appeared  as  the  crazy  schemer,  anxious  to  hitch  his 
rickety  wagon  to  her  auspicious  star.  Even  then, 
while  protected  by  her  own  good  sense,  she  would 
not  damage  that  self-confidence  which  was  his  only 
possession.  These  direct  contacts  with  persons 
through  calls  and  letters  she  valued  extremely;  and 
large  as  was  the  draft  they  made  on  her  time,  they 
were  probably  worth  while.  To  them  she  had  been 
disciplined  at  Wellesley,  and  by  them  she  recreated 
many  a  human  soul. 

I  have  said  nothing  about  her  public  speeches,  for 
the  truth  is  I  have  rarely  heard  them.  Whenever  she 
spoke  I  was  obliged  to  have  an  important  engagement 
elsewhere.  Her  banishment  of  me  was  not  through 
timidity,  I  think.  Few  speakers  have  so  little  of  that. 
But  in  addressing  an  audience,  she  used  to  say,  she 
must  speak  to  all  and  not  to  any  single  one  among 
them.  Yet  again  and  again  some  obscure  person  from 
her  audience  has  told  me  that  it  seemed  as  if  all  she 
said  was  intended  for  him  alone,  such  penetrating 
intimacy  was  in  her  words.  Quietly  they  fell,  as  if  la 


258  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

her  own  library;  the  simple  language  touched  with 
a  strange  veracity,  the  clinging  voice  modulated  so 
that  the  farthest  auditor  listened  with  pleasure ;  while 
the  swift  sentences  unfolded  her  theme  smoothly ,  tact- 
fully, often  humorously;  anecdote,  argument, home- 
thrust,  or  thrilling  passage  within  easy  command, 
and  all  welded  together  so  solidly  and  with  so  little 
self-consciousness  that  at  the  close  it  seemed  im- 
possible to  take  any  other  view  of  the  subject  than 
the  one  presented.  President  Angell  has  said  that 
"few  speakers  have  in  so  large  measure  as  she  that 
magnetic  unanalyzable  power,  divinely  given  now 
and  then  to  some  fortunate  man  or  woman,  of  cap- 
tivating and  charming  and  holding  complete  posses- 
sion of  assemblies  from  the  first  to  the  last  utterance." 
Rarely  was  she  fatigued  while  speaking.  She  was 
too  much  absorbed  for  that,  and  she  followed  what 
was  said  as  eagerly  as  any  who  listened.  But  she 
ordinarily  came  home  despondent.  To  my  inquiry 
how  things  had  gone,  "  Wretchedly,"  she  would  say. 
"  Why  did  you  let  me  accept  that  invitation  "^  "  And 
just  before  an  address  she  was  often  equally  down- 
hearted. She  would  come  hurrying  into  the  house, 
saying  she  had  a  speech  to  make  in  Boston  the  next 
hour  and  nothing  to  make  it  of.  What  should  she  do  ? 
And  how  foolish  she  had  been  to  promise  it  three 
months  before !  In  later  years  these  things  gave  me 
little  alarm ;  for  I  found  her  speeches  were  not  made 


CAMBRIDGE  259 

ex  tempore,  but  ex  omni  tem-pore,  from  a  rich  experi- 
ence and  with  a  delicate  sense  of  literary  form.  Her 
best  place  for  preparing  them  was  on  the  street,  in 
contact  w'ith  people,  and  before  an  audience.  But  in 
the  early  years  I  did  not  understand  these  inspired 
processes,  and  thought  my  wooden  ways  universally 
applicable.  Shortly  after  w^e  married  she  had  an 
address  to  make  of  more  than  usual  importance. 
When  the  time  w^as  only  a  month  distant,  I  asked  if 
she  had  selected  her  subject?  She  said  she  should 
do  so  soon.  After  another  fortnight  I  began  to  press 
on  her  the  importance  of  making  notes.  But  callers 
happened  to  be  numerous  just  then  and  commit- 
tees urgent.  "When  but  three  more  days  were  left,  I 
became  positively  miserable  and  made  her  about 
equally  so.  She  shut  herself  up  in  her  room  the  last 
day  and  spent  its  wretched  hours  in  fruitless  medi- 
tation. I  saw  when  she  left  me  for  the  hall  that  she 
was  thoroughly  disorganized,  and  she  told  me  —  I 
believe  truthfully  —  that  she  went  to  pieces  on  the 
platform.  Several  persons  inquired  of  me  what  had 
been  the  matter  that  day  with  Mrs.  Palmer.  I  knew 
too  well :  the  trouble  was  meddling  I.  Henceforth 
I  trusted  her  temperament,  and  I  do  not  think  she 
ever  again  made  so  bad  a  failure. 

From  her  notebooks  I  learn  that  there  were  years 
in  which  these  public  addresses  ran  as  high  as  forty. 
Seldom  would  they  average  less  than  one  a  fort- 


260  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

night.  Many  weeks  contained  several.  She  enjoyed 
them  all,  as  she  did  everything;  enjoyed  meeting  the 
people  after  the  lecture,  enjoyed  inspecting  the  schools 
or  towns  where  she  spoke,  enjoyed  managing  a  de- 
mure country  audience  and  conducting  it  decorously 
to  a  smile.  Her  subjects  were  generally  taken  from 
some  phase  of  girls'  education,  occasionally  from  her 
experiences  abroad  or  at  home,  or  from  a  book  she 
had  been  reading.  I  believe  the  majority  of  her 
addresses  were  unpaid,  as  were  all  the  employments 
recorded  in  this  chapter  with  the  single  exception  of 
the  Chicago  deanship. 

Such  were  some  of  the  larger  occupations  of  Mrs. 
Palmer's  busy  winters.  The  lesser  ones  I  leave  un- 
named. Each  autumn,  in  company  with  the  Catholic 
priest,  she  engaged  in  that  temperance  campaign 
by  which  Cambridge  has  held  unshaken  for  a  long 
series  of  years  its  policy  of  No  License.  In  each  of 
the  later  Springs  there  were  vacation  schools  to  be 
organized  and  suitable  play-grounds  to  be  provided. 
Once  a  fortnight  came  the  merry  suppers  of  her 
sewing  society,  the  ancient  Cambridge  "  Bee."  Each 
Friday  Harvard  students  were  met  in  Brooks  House 
by  Faculty  wives ;  each  Saturday  in  Boston  the  clever 
girls  of  the  College  Club  expected  her,  their  presi- 
dent for  two  years,  at  their  afternoon  tea.  But  every 
one  knows  how  the  occupations  which  devour  time 
are  either  those  petty  matters  which  keep  our  hum- 


CAMBRIDGE  261 

drum  world  in  motion,  or  else  the  erratic  incalculable 
affairs  which  break  into  our  regularities  to-day  and, 
because  not  likely  to  appear  to-morrow,  do  for  the 
moment  claim  exclusive  attention.  Of  either  we  keep 
no  chronicle.  Yet  a  single  serious  one  of  the  latter 
sort  deserves  mention.  It  fell  on  Mrs.  Palmer  in 
November,  1898,  and  cost  her  most  of  that  winter. 
As  she  stepped  from  a  street  car  opposite  her  door, 
a  bicycle  rider  whirled  round  a  neighboring  corner 
and,  before  either  could  pause  and  with  little  fault 
on  either  side,  struck  her  squarely,  dashing  her  head 
against  a  paving  stone.  Complete  consciousness  did 
not  return  for  twelve  hours,  and  for  a  time  perma- 
nent injury  to  the  brain  was  feared.  During  the  slow 
recovery  she  was  much  touched,  and  queerly  sur- 
prised, by  the  expressions  of  sympathy  which  came 
to  her  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  Weakness  re- 
mained for  about  a  year,  and  her  dark  hair  began  to 
turn  gray.  But  rest  is  medicinal,  and  Mrs.  Palmer 
was  not  without  the  important  ability  to  shirk.  At 
the  right  moment  she  could  sew,  play,  or  take  refuge 
in  Boxford,  leaving  letters  unanswered  and  commit- 
tees unattended.  Courage,  a  quiet  mind,  and  a  little 
nonchalance  will  heal  much.  By  the  time  of  her 
death  all  effects  of  the  accident  had  passed  away. 
This  account  of  Mrs.  Palmer's  busy  winters  may 
easily  convey  an  erroneous  impression.  It  is  intended 
to  be  descriptive  merely,  not  didactic.   In  it  I  have 


202  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

tried  to  depict  Mrs.  Palmer's  working  season,  not  to 
offer  a  program  for  persons  in  general.  Let  some 
women  read  the  account  with  horror,  rendered 
doubly  thankful  that  they  were  born  for  the  drawing 
room  and  easy  chair.  Let  others  be  quickened  in 
their  own  diverse  professions  and  enter  into  them 
with  the  greater  devotion  because  of  Mrs.  Palmer's 
labors.  Let  the  plain  housekeeper  learn  here  how 
even  under  pressure  one  may  keep  cool,  happy,  and 
hardly  in  haste.  Let  each  one  draw  from  this  story 
whatever  moral  it  has  for  him  or  for  her.  With  such 
uses  of  it  I  am  not  concerned.  My  business  is  simply 
to  set  forth  a  nature  somewhat  unusual,  endowed 
with  great  powers  whose  exercise  brought  constant 
pleasure;  endowed  with  a  heart  which  could  not  be 
happy  alone;  with  an  originality  that  struck  out  its 
own  ways  of  working  and  freshened  every  little  act 
along  its  path ;  and  with  a  piety  that  hourly  hungered 
and  thirsted  after  righteousness.  In  this  season  of 
what  I  have  called  her  self-expression,  delight  and 
duty  moved  hand  in  hand.  Each  heavy-laden  morn- 
ing opened  to  her  its  opportunities  and  sent  her  forth 
gladly  to  meet  its  "good  times."  She  would  certainly 
never  have  wished  others  to  follow  in  her  track,  but 
only  to  be  earnest  and  joyous  in  their  own.  Laziness 
and  conventionality  she  did  indeed  abhor,  and 
thought  most  people  only  half  awake.  She  liked  to 
live  in  everv  fibre  of  her  being,  and  so  she  vitalized 


CAMBRIDGE  263 

all  around.  Yet  her  capacious  life  is  only  half  re- 
ported in  this  chapter.  As  she  conceived  it,  it  was  to 
hold  both  cares  and  carelessness.  The  prodigal  win- 
ters of  Cambridge  were  rendered  possible  by  the 
supplemental  peace  of  Boxford.  To  that  contrasted 
spot  let  us  now  remove. 

LETTERS 

Is  n't  it  strange  that  now  in  September,  just  after 
coming  from  abroad,  I  should  be  passing  through 
Wellesley  on  the  opening  day  of  the  College  ?  There 
all  must  be  turmoil  and  bustle,  and  ordinarily  I 
should  be  going  to  the  waiting  work.  Now  I  am 
flying  to  peaceful  Boxford,  with  no  wish  to  turn  back 
to  the  old  days.  Yet  as  I  speed  along  the  familiar 
way,  and  my  train  at  last  dashes  past  the  station, 
leaving  the  college  towers  in  the  distance,  my  feelings 
are  too  mixed  to  analyze.  I  only  know  that  there  is 
in  them  no  touch  of  regret  that  the  train  does  not 
leave  me  there.  You  are  better  than  any  college ;  to 
be  your  wife  a  higher  position  than  the  princess  held 
in  the  days  before  you  came  and  made  her  a  queen. 

This  morning  as  I  sat  at  work  here  at  home  Dr. 
F.  threw  open  the  door,  led  in  an  invalid  girl  whom 
he  has  been  watching  for  several  weeks,  and  said, 
"  Lizzie  is  nineteen  to-day,  and  I  thought  she  would 
like  to  see  the  pretty  things  you  brought  from  Eu- 


264  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

rope."  She  has  been  holding  the  white  lace  dress 
in  her  lap  all  the  afternoon.  Her  soft  black  eyes 
followed  me  about  like  Stella's,  and  her  cough  was 
sadly  familiar.  Her  mother  has  just  died  of  consump- 
tion, and  she  cannot  live  through  the  winter.  When 
she  went  away,  she  put  out  her  thin  hands  and  said, 
"  You  have  been  very  good  to  me.  Won't  you  forget 
that  you  never  saw  me  before,  and  let  me  kiss  you  ?  " 
Oh  dear,  how  sad  the  world  is !  Why  can't  I  put  the 
white  lace  on  her  pretty  form  and  send  her  out  to 
find  a  lover  like  mine,  and  health  and  happiness  with 
him? 

I  have  missed  you  again.  All  day  I  have  been 
presiding  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Home  Mis- 
sionary Board  in  Park  Street  Church,  the  largest 
meeting  the  Association  has  ever  held.  At  its  close 
we  contributed  $800  to  send  another  teacher  to 
Dakota.  I  would  gladly  make  an  appointment  for 
the  morning ;  but  I  returned  from  New  York  late  last 
night,  and  was  at  this  meeting  from  nine  until  five 
o'clock  to-day.  A  pile  of  letters  demands  immediate 
answers,  and  to-morrow  at  three  o'clock  the  Ex- 
ecutive Committee  of  Wellesley  meets  in  Boston. 
Before  or  after  that  meeting  I  shall  try  to  find  you. 

This  is  the  first  time  I  have  been  up  long  enough 
to  write  a  note  since  Saturday.   Last  week  I  took  a 


CAMBRIDGE  265 

Tieavy  cold,  and  perhaps  I  was  tired.  But  I  am  all 
right  now,  or  soon  shall  be.  Your  little  card  to-night 
brings  tears  to  my  eyes.  I  must  see  you.  If  I  were  n't 
afraid  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  have  no  one 
under  your  roof  except  your  ownest  ones,  I  should 
surely,  surely,  be  with  you  at  once.  I  believe  I  could 
smooth  the  aches  out  of  your  head  and  put  you  to 
sleep  as  if  you  were  a  little  child.  I  know  how,  and 
love  you  enough  to  be  able  to  do  it.  Won't  you  tell 
me  something  I  may  do  for  you  ?  May  I  come  some 
day  and  tell  you  a  pretty  story? 

But  no!  As  I  write,  I  succumb.  I  shall  go  to-mor- 
row. Tell  your  watchers  and  defenders  that  I  won't 
speak,  not  a  word !  I  '11  only  look ;  can't  they  trust  me  ? 
Did  they  ever  hear  me  talk  much  ?  Don't  they  know 
that  I  have  n't  any  ideas  left  ?  Besides,  I  have  a  cold, 
and  the  doctor  does  n't  allow  me  to  say  anything.  I 
want  to  receive  the  pretty  cushion  you  have  made 
for  me,  stuffed  with  love  and  sewed  with  tenderness, 
from  the  very  hands  that  made  it.  My  head  aches 
for  it,  and  my  heart  —  well,  Longfellow  said  his  was 
"hot  and  restless."  Perhaps  that  is  what  I  should 
say  of  mine  if  I  were  a  poet.  It  is  n't  prudent  for  me 
to  go  out  to-day  —  but  to-morrow  ? 

The  time  draws  near  for  your  speech.  I  am  glad 
it  comes  on  the  first  day  of  the  festival,  before  you 
get  tired.  Then  you  will  have  it  off  your  mind-  Keep 


266  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

yourself  fresh  and  calm  until  you  have  spoken,  and 
then  you  can  mingle  with  the  people.  What  are  you 
going  to  wear?  You  must  tell  me  all  about  it  when 
it  is  over,  and  you  have  had  one  good  night's  sleep. 

As  for  the  speech  itself,  it  will  make  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world  how  you  say  it.  If  you  are  heard 
distinctly,  and  your  manner  is  cordial  and  earnest 
and  unaffected,  it  will  be  a  success.  I  would  break 
up  the  first  sentences  a  little.  A  speech  is  more  effec- 
tive if  its  early  sentences  are  short.  But  this  is  a 
good  one.  I  have  thrown  in  a  few  quotations  which 
T  thought  would  be  telling.  Use  them  or  not,  as  you 
please. 

How  in  the  world  did  you  learn  about  Chicago  ? 
I  trusted  no  whisper  would  reach  you  until  I  could 
speak.  And  I  have  been  in  bed  for  two  weeks,  am 
indeed  just  crawling  about  to-day.  How  I  have 
longed  for  Florida  or  any  haven  of  escape  from 
Cambridge  winds  and  dust !  So  I  have  planned  little 
since  President  Harper  was  here  three  weeks  ago. 
I  have  n't  been  willing  to  worry  anybody  in  case  we 
should  not  accept.  But  about  this  we  ourselves  don't 
know  yet.  We  shall  probably  go  to  Chicago  next 
week,  during  Harvard's  Easter  recess,  look  the 
ground  over,  and  then  decide  as  soon  as  possible. 
Of  course  I  need  n't  say  that  we  don't  want  to  go. 
For  almost  every  reason  we  prefer  to  stay  just  where 


CAMBRIDGE  267 

we  are.  Undoubtedly  it  would  be  pleasanter  and 
more  useful  to  have  $12,000  a  year  instead  of  four. 
And  there  are  superb  chances  of  work  out  there  — 
how  superb  people  here  don't  understand.  What 
shall  we  do? 

I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  speak  sadly  of  your  life 
and  its  small  results,  though  what  you  say  finds  an 
echo  in  all  our  hearts  when  we  stop  to  think  of  the 
gulf  between  our  aspiration  and  accomplishment. 
The  one  comfort  is  that  we  do  not  know  much  about 
that  accomplishment.  I  fancy  you  do  not  see  your 
child  grow  from  Sunday  to  Sunday.  The  child  her- 
self does  n't  know  that  she  has  grown  at  all.  But 
with  the  Lord  one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a 
thousand  years  as  one  day.  And  indeed  I  wonder 
what  more  duties  you  could  ask  than  those  you  are 
fulfilling  so  bravely.  In  the  end  I  believe  your  town 
will  be  a  better  place  because  you  live  in  it;  and  if 
so,  all  Maine  and  New  England  and  our  struggling 
world,  that  swings  so  slowly  onward.  Take  heart, 
and  let  God  bless  all  your  life  as  wife  and  mother 
and  daughter  and  friend  and  neighbor.  You  can't 
help  being  a  strong  influence  quite  unconsciously. 

But  consciously  also  you  may  help  to  think  out 
help  for  many.  Especially  now  as  a  mother,  you  can 
take  thought  for  the  children  all  about  you  and  see 
that  they  have  wholesome  surroundings  to  grow  in 


268  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

That  is  much  on  my  mind  of  late.  We  comfortable 
women  should  do  more  than  merely  give  to  charities, 
hospitals,  etc.  We  can  keep  the  streets  and  school- 
houses  clean  and  make  half  the  diseases  vanish. 
From  our  own  blessed  homes  we  can  help  to  make 
the  whole  city  a  happy  home  for  the  little  children 
who  now  hardly  have  homes  at  all.  Why,  what  a 
fortunate  woman  you  are !  If  I  had  a  little  daughter, 
it  seems  to  me  I  should  be  proud  to  devote  my  whole 
time  to  her  and  her  father  and  her  home,  and  to 
sweetening  her  native  town  for  her  to  live  in. 

But  I  am  glad  you  are  taking  up  music  and  are 
reading  French  and  Dante.  All  this  will  keep  a  girl's 
heart  in  you,  and  an  open  mind,  and  make  you 
fresher  and  gladder  in  your  home.  You  will  want 
your  daughter  to  feel  that  you  are  a  student  too, 
when  she  becomes  one,  and  that  the  learning  is  never 
done  as  long  as  we  are  in  God's  wonderful  world. 
What  a  difference  it  will  make  when  all  our  mothers 
have  such  relations  with  their  children,  besides  the 
life  of  love ! 

We  have  been  talking  over  your  letter,  and  feel 
pretty  certain  that  you  ought  not  to  give  up  your 
excellent  place  and  devote  yourself  to  your  brother 
and  his  child.  That  would  not  be  fair  either  to  your- 
self or  to  him.  He  ought  not  to  allow  it.  In  the 
nature  of  things  his  plans  must  be  very  uncertain, 


CAMBRIDGE  269 

while  this  is  a  critical  period  in  your  life.  If  just  at 
your  age  you  abandon  your  present  opportunity  for 
large  influence  and  usefulness,  withdrawing  from 
scholarly  work  and  surroundings,  you  will  find  after 
a  few  years  that  you  cannot  take  it  up  anew.  He  in 
the  mean  time  may  marry  again.  He  ought  to  be 
free  to  do  so.  But  in  that  case  you  will  be  left  without 
occupation  or  interest.  I  have  seen  this  happen  pain- 
fully often.  No!  Go  on  making  your  life  as  strong 
and  valuable  as  you  can.  Have  Nellie  with  you  for 
a  while  and  then  put  her  into  a  good  school.  By  and 
by  that  will  be  the  very  best  thing  for  her.  An  only 
child  needs  school  life  earlier  than  other  children. 

Your  present  opportunity  is  an  admirable  one. 
Of  course  you  must  engage  in  it  prudently,  taking 
care  of  your  health  all  the  time.  But  when  you  are 
occupied  with  so  beautiful  a  piece  of  work,  your 
health  is  likely  of  itself  to  grow  firmer.  You  seem  to 
have  been  trusted  as  few  women  are ;  and  that  is  "  a 
call."  It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  won  such  confidence. 
It  constitutes  a  capital.  Into  this  work  you  can  gather 
all  your  past  experience  and  carry  it  straight  on. 
You  must  not  "shrink  before  the  bigness  of  the 
task."  That  is  what  Wellesley  has  been  trying  to  fit 
her  daughters  for,  and  you  must  not  fail  her  when 
a  chance  for  leadership  comes.  This  is  a  remarka- 
ble offer,  and  in  that  very  fact  lies  large  promise  of 
success.    Of  course  no  one  can  decide  for  you,  espc 


270  ALICE    FREEMAN  PALMER 

cially  if  you  feel  no  inner  inclination.  To  me  you 
seem  well  fitted.  So  many  college  women  have  no 
gift  for  executive  work  that  those  who  have  are  the 
more  necessary,  if  that  important  work  is  to  be 
done. 

I  see  you  hesitate  about  abandoning  your  studies 
for  a  higher  degree.  Many  young  men  and  women 
are  making  a  fetich  of  the  Ph.D.,  letting  splendid 
chances  go  by,  as  if  that  were  an  end  in  itself.  It  is 
a  sad  mistake,  both  for  them  and  for  society  in  gen- 
eral. Unless  you  have  some  definite  scheme  in  mind, 
of  long  and  patient  research,  you  will  not  bring  out 
results  of  consequence.  Studying  interesting  ques- 
tions among  pleasant  people  is  always  agreeable, 
but  it  does  n't  make  a  life.  My  impression  is  that  you 
are  enough  like  me  to  prefer  active  work  and  direct 
influence  to  the  solitary  scholar's  career.  If  I  am 
right,  you  should  not  sacrifice  a  great  opportunity 
for  service,  in  case  it  appeals  to  you,  for  a  little  more 
lingering  in  lecture  rooms  and  libraries. 

A  friend  said  to  me  the  other  day  that  women  are 
already  so  occupied  with  the  higher  duties  of  life 
that  they  have  no  time  to  attend  to  political  duties. 
She  thought  political  duties  would  interfere  with 
the  proper  execution  of  these  higher  ones,  and  rightly 
insisted  that  no  such  interference  must  be  allowed. 
What  then  are  the  political  duties?    What  are  the 


CAMBRIDGE  271 

higher  duties?  How  far  does  the  one  kind  obstruct 
or  assist  the  other  ? 

The  political  duties  are  informing  one's  self  on 
the  state  of  the  country,  on  policies  at  issue,  on 
candidates  for  office,  and  then  going  to  the  polls  and 
depositing  a  ballot.  The  so-called  higher  duties  are 
the  bearing  and  rearing  of  children,  while  making 
a  home  for  family  and  friends. 

How  much  time  must  a  woman  spend  on  her 
political  duties?  If  she  belongs  to  the  well-to-do 
class  and  hires  others  to  do  her  domestic  work,  she 
has  time  for  whatever  interests  her  most  —  only  let 
her  interests  be  noble!  If  she  does  her  own  house- 
work, she  can  take  ten  minutes  to  stop  on  her  way  to 
market  for  voting  once  or  twice  a  year.  She  can  find 
half  an  hour  a  day  for  newspapers  and  other  means 
of  information.  She  can  talk  with  her  family  and 
friends  about  what  she  reads.  This  she  does  now; 
she  will  then  do  it  more  intelligently  and  will  give 
and  receive  more  from  what  she  says  and  hears. 

The  duties  of  motherhood  and  the  making  of  a 
home  are  the  most  sacred  work  for  women  of  every 
class,  and  the  dearest  to  them.  If  casting  an  intelli- 
gent vote  would  interfere  with  what  woman  alone 
can  do  —  and  what,  if  failed  in,  undermines  society 
and  government  —  no  one  can  question  which  a 
woman  should  choose.  But  it  cannot  be  shown  that 
there  is  any  large  number  of  women  in  this  country 


272  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

who  have  not  the  necessary  time  to  vote  intelligently. 
Study  of  the  vital  questions  of  our  government  would 
make  them  better  comrades  to  their  husbands  and 
friends,  better  guides  to  their  sons,  and  more  inter- 
esting and  valuable  members  of  society.  Women 
have  more  leisure  than  men ;  they  are  less  tied  to 
hours  of  routine;  they  usually  have  more  years  of 
school  training,  and  in  this  country  their  conscience 
and  loyalty  compare  favorably  with  men's.  All  this 
makes  simple  the  combination  of  public  and  "  higher  " 
duties. 

The  objections  to  the  political  woman  and  to  the 
educated  woman  present  some  instructive  analogies. 
Fifty  years  ago  it  was  seriously  believed  that  knowing 
the  classics  would  ruin  a  girl's  morals,  knowing 
philosophy  her  religion,  and  mathematics  her  health; 
in  general,  a  college  education  would  take  away  her 
desire  to  be  a  good  wife  and  mother.  To  protect  a 
being  so  frail  the  colleges  were  carefully  closed  against 
her.  Now,  with  the  approval  of  wise  men,  more  girls 
than  boys  are  preparing  for  college,  and  this  in  the 
public  interest.  It  may  be  found  in  politics,  as  in 
education,  that  the  higher  duties  of  women  will  be 
assisted,  not  hindered,  by  intelligent  discipline  in 
the  lower. 

The  report  on  the  Endowment  of  Fellowships  is 
admirably    drawn.     Whether    the    decision    is    for 


CAMBRIDGE  273 

European  or  American  advanced  study,  I  shall  sup- 
port it  as  far  as  I  am  able,  and  I  believe  the  necessary 
money  can  easily  be  obtained.  Yet  I  hope  the  Asso- 
ciation will  decide  on  European  study.  Our  com- 
mittee keeps  us  properly  protected  against  every 
danger  to  our  students  except  the  family ;  but  that  is 
serious.  A  young  woman  cannot  hold  herself  apart 
from  a  needy  family,  as  a  young  man  can.  And  while 
many  a  young  woman  can  get  advantages  in  certain 
lines  of  study  pursued  in  America  as  well  as  abroad, 
still  on  the  whole  and  in  the  present  development  of 
women's  scholarship,  I  believe  the  Association  will 
accomplish  more  and  be  more  secure  of  its  results 
if  it  sends  its  Fellow  abroad  into  an  entirely  new  field. 
There  a  sick  brother  cannot  claim  her  for  a  month's 
nursing,  nor  a  lonely  mother  be  likely  to  demand  to 
be  amused.  No!  Foreign  life  has  not  made  me 
exactly  inhuman,  but  we  need  to  strengthen  women 
to  devote  themselves  to  high,  persistent  work;  and 
there  is  too  little  proper  sentiment  in  America  about 
the  sacredness  of  their  time,  as  we  all  know. 

In  this  distant  city  the  women's  Civic  Club  has 
good  material  but  bad  leadership.  The  meeting  last 
night  was  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  and  more 
than  a  dozen  former  Wellesley  girls  were  present. 
There  were  four  addresses  before  mine;  so  I  spoke 
about  twenty  minutes,  and  am  afraid  I  was  too 


274  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

critical  to  suit  the  mass  of  the  audience.  In  fact  I 
was  burning  with  indignation  over  the  president, 
Mrs.  T.  She  is  a  ranting  sentimentalist,  a  Method- 
ist of  the  worst  type.  I  cannot  understand  how  this 
woman  has  done  what  she  really  has  done.  A  descrip- 
tion of  her  talk  cannot  be  put  on  paper.  But  more 
hopeless  conceit  and  vulgarity,  more  cheap  senti- 
mentality I  have  never  known  packed  into  a  single 
hour.  At  the  close  of  my  address  she  threw  her  arms 
around  me,  called  me  "  my  darling,"  and  begged  me 
to  bring  my  trunk  at  once  to  her  house.  Many  in  the 
audience  wiped  their  eyes  with  delight  at  her  way 
of  saying  "  Jesus,"  and  looked  disgusted  at  my  lack 
of  "spirituality."  These  women  will  have  to  learn 
that  sprinkling  rose-water  does  not  cure  the  cancers 
of  city  life.  But  don't  suppose  I  said  anything  so 
heretical  here. 

Last  week  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  have  a  talk 
with  a  Cape  Cod  farmer  at  a  little  railroad  station 
where  our  train  was  delayed.  As  we  grew  confidential 
he  told  me  how,  though  he  was  not  yet  sixty  years  old, 
he  had  seen  all  the  dreams  of  his  boyhood  come 
true.  This  surprised  me  into  asking  him  to  be  more 
confidential  still  and  to  tell  me  what  they  were.  He 
did  so  in  detail.  There  was  the  mortgage  on  the  farm 
when  he  was  a  boy,  and  the  heavy  load  when  he 
inherited  the  farm.    He  said,  "I  should  have  been 


CAMBRIDGE  275 

swamped  by  it  if  I  had  n't  had  the  luck  just  then  to 
fall  in  love  with  the  nicest  girl  on  the  Cape.  And  I 
don't  mind  telling  you,"  he  went  on,  "  what  I  told  her. 
I  told  her  that  if  she  would  join  me  I  would  work 
hard,  and  we  would  scrimp  and  save  and  pay  off  that 
mortgage.  I  told  her  too  that  before  I  got  into  my 
grave  I  would  earn  enough  and  lay  by  enough  so  that 
every  one  of  my  women-folks  should  sit  in  a  rocking- 
chair  reading  a  story  every  afternoon  of  their  lives." 
I  thanked  my  farmer  then,  and  I  bless  him  still.  His 
story  is  an  American  classic.  It  tells  the  dream  of  all 
the  chivalrous  husbands  and  fathers  and  brothers 
and  sons  of  our  American  women  —  a  glorious 
dream,  if  the  women  refuse  the  rocking-chair  and  the 
story;  but  a  pitiful  one  if  they  take  these  every  after- 
noon of  their  lives.  Never  in  all  the  world  has  so 
much  leisure,  so  much  money,  or  so  much  freedom 
in  the  spending  of  both,  been  granted  women  as  to 
us  to-day.  But  how  slenderly  we  are  fitted  for  using 
that  money  and  leisure  nobly! 

This  morning  I  am  asked  to  write  something  about 
Miss  A.  and  send  it  by  the  next  mail  to  the  Magazine. 
How  difficult  it  is  to  fit  such  things  to  the  intricate 
reality,  and  so  how  untruthful  they  generally  are ! 
When  I  suddenly  leave  you  all,  I  hope  nobody  will 
have  to  say  anything  about  me,  or  plan  a  "  Memorial 
Number."   Love  and  silence  are  best. 


276         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

You  will  find  some  hardship  in  this  change,  but 
don't  take  it  harder  than  you  need.  Comfort  your- 
self, as  I  often  do,  with  the  thought  that  rest  comes 
sure  and  soon.  Neither  you  nor  I  are  any  longer 
young,  and  we  both  come  of  a  short-lived  race.  After 
all,  it  makes  little  difference  what  happens,  or  when. 


xm 

BOXFORD 

About  twenty-five  miles  to  the  north  of  Boston, 
and  half  a  dozen  inland  from  the  sea,  lies  the  ancient 
village  of  Boxford,  settled  among  its  trees.  These 
hem  the  sight  on  every  side.  Wherever  you  go  in 
this  rolling  country,  you  seldom  leave  the  woods; 
and  even  in  crossing  its  two  considerable  plains, 
jagged  peaks  of  pines  form  always  the  sawlike  sky- 
line. Encircled  by  these  woods  lie  many  ponds,  and 
the  streams  which  run  to  and  fro  are  met  with  bewil- 
dering frequency.  On  them  is  an  occasional  saw- 
mill, where  piles  of  sawdust  perfume  the  air.  So 
important  are  our  streams  that  we  carefully  distin- 
guish their  varieties.  West  of  New  York  everj^hing 
that  runs  is  a  "creek."  Brook,  as  a  spoken  word,  is 
gone  —  the  most  regrettable  loss  the  English  language 
has  suffered  in  America.  With  us  a  creek  does  not 
run,  but  is  a  crack  or  inlet  of  the  sea.  Our  largest 
current  is  Topsfield  River;  in  the  second  grade  of 
things  that  flow  we  put  our  many  brooks;  and  that 
which  runs  swiftly  a  part  of  the  year,  and  shows  a 
dry  bed  for  the  remainder  we  fittingly  call  a  run.  I 
do  not  know  if  the  word  occurs  elsewhere  between  us 
and  Bull  Run. 


278  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

In  speaking  of  Boxford  it  is  more  natural  to  tell 
first  of  its  woods,  ponds,  and  brooks  than  of  its 
houses  and  people,  because  there  are  so  many  more 
of  them.  The  town  is  nine  miles  long  by  five  wide, 
but  there  are  more  half  miles  without  a  house  than 
with  one.  The  village  itself  contains  only  a  dozen, 
beside  the  single  church,  the  single  store,  the  small 
public  library,  and  the  large  town  hall.  Driving 
along  the  stone-walled  roads,  one  comes  at  intervals 
on  solitary  farmsteads  where  a  venerable  house  and 
large  barn  sit  in  smooth  fields,  sharply  suihiered  from 
the  forest.  The  older  houses  sit  square  to  the  com- 
pass, regardless  of  the  road.  Everything  about  them 
is  in  order,  as  was  ordained  two  hundred  years  ago; 
paint,  thrift,  and  self-respect  having  maintained  the 
standard  since.  The  soil  is  thin,  and  the  returns 
from  farming  meagre.  Formerly  summer  crops  of 
hay,  oats,  and  wheat  were  profitable;  and  in  the 
little  shoe-shops,  which  still  stand  deserted  beside 
many  houses,  the  farmer  and  his  children  kept  busy 
through  the  winter.  But  Boxford  has  been  unable  to 
hold  its  own  against  the  farming  of  the  West  or  the 
machinery  of  Lynn  and  Brockton.  The  young  men 
—  and  of  later  years,  since  more  avenues  of  employ- 
ment have  been  opened,  the  young  women  too  — 
leave  the  town  as  soon  as  possible.  Our  population, 
less  than  it  was  a  century  ago,  barely  reaches  five 
hundred.   Almost  entirely  it  is  of  English  stock,  the 


BOXFORD  279 

same  families  continuing  on  their  lands  through 
many  generations.  Hardly  any  Italians,  Canadians, 
or  Irish  are  here.  There  are  no  poor,  no  rich ;  nor 
have  we  any  doctor  or  lawyer.  There  are  too  few 
people  to  quarrel;  and  in  our  wholesome  piney  air 
dying  and  falling  sick  went  out  of  fashion  ages  ago. 

This  is  the  village  which  in  Mrs.  Palmer's  affec- 
tions possessed  a  sacredness  no  other  spot  of  earth 
could  claim.  Into  it  had  soaked  the  traditions  of  my 
family  for  eight  generations.  To  it  her  own  early 
nature-worship  had  been  transferred  and  here  be- 
came newly  enriched  by  many  hallowed  experiences. 
Here  was  her  refuge  when  elsewhere  the  world  was 
too  much  with  her.  The  hush  and  peace  of  Boxford 
she  has  herself  expressed  in  compact  verse :  — 

Out  of  the  roar  and  din, 

Safely  shut  in. 
Out  of  the  seething  street, 

Silence  to  meet. 

Out  of  the  hurrying  hours. 

To  lie  in  flowers; 
Far  from  the  toil  and  strife 

To  find  our  life. 

Ah,  let  the  world  forget! 

Here  we  have  met. 
Most  in  this  sacred  place 

I  see  thy  face. 


280  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

Our  farm  in  Boxford  has  never  been  owned  by 
anybody  but  ourselves  and  the  Indians.  Captain 
John  Peabody  built  his  house  here  in  IGGO,  and  out 
of  it  came  that  tribe  of  Peabodys  who  have  since 
wandered  into  every  state  of  the  Union  and  even 
made  their  name  blest  in  far-away  London.  Until 
1856  the  farm  continued  in  that  single  name.  Then 
by  the  death  of  my  grandfather  it  descended  to  my 
mother,  Lucy  Peabody,  and  has  for  the  last  fifty  years 
been  known  as  the  Palmer  farm.  Of  its  hundred  and 
twenty-five  acres  about  half  is  woodland.  Its  large 
two-chimneyed  house  stands  in  an  open  field  or  park 
of  twenty  acres,  dotted  with  trees  which  mark  the 
line  of  the  run  and  enclose  a  small  sheet  of  water. 
Oaks  and  maples  fill  the  rocky  pasture  in  the  rear; 
while  across  the  road,  and  at  about  an  equal  distance 
in  front,  the  sandier  soil  is  covered  with  pines.  Per- 
haps the  feature  of  this  bit  of  ground  which  was  most 
loved  by  Mrs.  Palmer  is  the  twenty-foot  brook,  which, 
after  sauntering  through  the  tall  pines,  zigzags 
through  meadows  and  yields  us,  in  addition  to  its 
beauty  and  murmur,  the  more  solid  delights  of 
pickerel,  lilies,  stepping-stones,  and  bathing-pool. 

In  the  woods  for  about  two  miles  run  paths,  or 
avenues  rather,  cut  in  large  part  by  Mrs.  Palmer 
and  myself,  each  enriched  by  special  associations  and 
suitably  endowed  by  her  with  names.  Names  too 
have  gathered  about  other  prominent  features  of  the 


BOXFORD  281 

farm.  The  Fairy  Ring  is  an  open  circle  in  the  woods; 
the  Old  Cellar,  a  hollow  ringed  with  cedars,  still 
shows  the  foundations  of  a  house  which  was  already 
gone  in  1800;  at  Sunset  Rock  on  Sunday  afternoons 
nearly  all  Shakespeare's  plays  have  been  read  aloud ; 
and  Hattie's  House,  a  rock  among  the  ash  trees, 
where  one  may  recline,  was  the  favorite  haunt  of  an 
invalid  member  of  the  household,  long  since  dead. 
No  part  of  this  farm  is  mere  earth  and  vegetation. 
Clustering  associations  cover  the  soil.  All  entered 
long  ago  into  that  alliance  with  man  which  in  Lord 
Bacon's  judgment  is  ever  a  condition  of  beauty, — 
homo  additus  naturae.  Raw  nature  is  pretty  poor  stuff.- 
Most  philosophers  doubt  if,  parted  from  man,  matter 
would  be  quite  conceivable.  Coleridge  thought  that 
in  beholding  the  world  — 

We  receive  but  what  we  give. 

And  in  our  life  alone  does  nature  live. 

At  any  rate,  human  emotions  intertwined  with  na- 
ture ennoble  both  material  objects  and  themselves. 
Things  loved  cease  to  be  mere  things,  and  retain 
longer  than  rose-jars  a  delicate  perfume.  So  did  the 
glorifying  magic  of  affection  permeate  Boxford. 
Mrs.  Palmer  found  the  place  deeply  impregnated 
by  the  eventful  past.  When  she  died,  she  had  given 
it  the  impress  of  her  pervasive  personality. 

Her  home  was  not  the  old  house  of  the  first  settler 


282  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

This  fell  into  decay  in  my  childhood.  Nor  was  it 
even  the  stately  second  house,  built  on  the  original 
farm  in  1825  by  my  grandfather.  During  Mrs. 
Palmer's  life  this  was  occupied  by  my  sister  and  half 
a  dozen  others  who  might  by  an  affectionate  arithme- 
tic be  counted  members  of  the  family.  Her  home 
was  on  an  adjoining  lot,  a  stone's  throw  distant  but 
unparted  by  boundaries.  It  is  a  small,  picturesque 
structure,  with  central  chimney,  and  is  almost  hidden 
by  foliage.  It  sits  on  its  little  bank  like  a  turtle  on  a 
log.  Half  a  century  ago  it  came  into  my  family,  but 
was  then  already  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old.  In 
its  low  rooms,  each  having  a  big  fire-place,  one  easily 
touches  the  ceilings  with  the  hand.  Across  the  ceiling 
of  the  large  living  room  runs  the  supporting  oak 
beam.  The  chamber  above  is  wainscoted  with  pine 
which  time  has  deepened  almost  to  mahogany. 
Shutters  of  the  same  wood  slide  across  its  windows. 
But  the  outside  of  this  house  is  more  important 
than  the  inside,  though  between  the  two  there  is 
little  distinction;  for  the  floor  is  on  a  level  with  the 
ground,  and  long  diamond  windows  give  exit  on  all 
sides,  while  porch  and  large  bay-window  bind  it  still 
more  closely  to  the  earth.  East  and  west  are  piazzas, 
so  sheltered  with  shrubbery  as  to  increase  the  nest- 
like aspect,  the  western  being  fitted  as  an  outdoor 
study  and  shielded  from  every  storm.  Tables  and 
chairs  and  bookshelves  and  sofa  are  on  it,  and  in  the 


BOXFORD  283 

rear  it  connects  with  a  library  of  fifteen  hundred 
vohimes.  On  it  we  live  and  work.  WTien  people  talk 
of  the  necessity  of  exercise  they  chiefly  mean  the 
necessity  of  breathing  open  air.  In  such  an  outdoor 
workshop  as  I  have  described  it  is  easy  to  give  half  a 
dozen  hours  a  day  to  books  and  writing ;  then  with  a 
couple  of  hours  in  the  woods  toward  evening,  and 
a  bath  in  the  brook  on  the  way  home,  one  comes  out 
at  the  end  of  the  summer  in  vigorous  health. 

Such  was  Mrs.  Palmer's  happy  hiding-place.  No 
telegraph  connects  it  with  the  city,  the  station  is  a 
mile  from  the  village,  our  house  half  a  mile  from  this, 
the  railroad  a  branch  line,  and  there  is  no  hotel. 
Here  she  was  fairly  secure  from  invasion.  There  were 
no  calls  to  make,  no  lectures  to  give,  no  committees 
to  meet,  and  little  company  was  invited.  Occasionally 
the  daughter  of  a  friend  was  with  us,  and  of  the  con- 
genial company  in  the  ancestral  house  we  saw  as  little 
or  as  much  as  we  liked.  ""Winters  for  other  people," 
we  used  to  say,  "summers  for  ourselves."  It  took 
some  time,  however,  to  break  up  brazen  habits  of 
incessant  work;  and  in  the  early  years  Mrs.  Palmer 
was  often  doubtful  about  duty.  "Do  you  think  we 
have  a  right  to  such  happiness?"  she  would  ask. 
But  soon  discovering  how  she  accumulated  here 
the  stock  of  energy,  learning,  and  romance  from 
which  the  world  drew  so  copiously  during  the  busy 
season,  she  reconciled  herself  to  her  bliss  and  ac- 


«84         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

cepted  the  peace  and  companionship  in  which  her 
soul  delighted.  People  who  found  her  lamp  a  light 
to  their  feet  on  city  streets  did  not  know  the  Box- 
ford  fields  in  which  its  oil  was  grown.  But  there  is 
no  feature  of  joy  more  creditable  than  its  inevitably 
communicative  character.  He  who  is  filled  with 
happiness,  though  seemingly  absorbed,  emanates 
pleasure  on  whoever  crosses  his  way.  He  cannot 
contain  it  all,  but  produces  much  for  his  neighbors. 
There  is  no  other  such  agent  for  diffusing  joy  as  the 
heart  that  itself  enjoys.  This  Mrs.  Palmer  possessed 
by  naiure.  In  Boxford  the  springs  of  her  effluent 
gladness  were  newly  filled. 

Long  before  our  marriage  her  restful  associations 
with  Boxford  began.  Early  in  our  acquaintance, 
and  twice  afterwards,  she  visited  me  here  in  com- 
pany with  a  friend.  The  summer  of  1887,  after  our 
engagement  was  announced,  she  spent  in  my  old 
house  with  her  sister,  while  I  lived  with  our  farmer. 
Here  we  came  for  the  fortnight  after  our  wedding, 
when  the  pine  boughs  were  loaded  with  snow  and 
the  world  without  and  within  was  like  fairyland. 
Here  in  subsequent  years  we  often  returned  to  cele- 
brate that  anniversary,  or  —  more  beautiful  still  — 
for  the  early  spring  recess.  Scattered  up  and  down 
the  working  time  many  Sundays  found  us  here, 
apple-blossom  Sunday  never  failing.  Though  May 
and  June  were  too  hurried  a  season  to  be  passed 


BOXFORD  285 

here  in  full,  we  usually  contrived  a  few  days  then  for 
observing  nature's  miracles.  And  never  does  nature 
appear  more  miraculous  than  to  the  tired  eyes  of  the 
dweller  in  cities  when,  after  absence,  he  once  more 
rests  them  on  green  fields  stretched  out  against  dark 
trees.  1  suspect  Milton  had  for  a  while  been  a 
stranger  at  Hortou  when  he  wrote  "L'Allegro." 
Among  Mrs.  Palmer's  papers  I  find  a  kindred  out- 
burst of  astonished  country  joy :  — 

We  journeyed  through  sweet  woodland  ways, 

My  Love  and  I. 
The  maples  set  the  shining  fields  ablaze. 

The  blue  May  sky 
Brought  to  us  its  great  Spring  surprise; 
While  we  saw  all  things  through  each  other's  eyes. 

And  sometimes  from  a  steep  hillside 

Shone  fair  and  bright 
The  shadbush,  like  a  young  June  bride, 

Fresh  clothed  in  white. 
Sometimes  came  glimpses  glad  of  the  blue  sea ; 
But  I  smiled  only  on  my  Love.  He  smiled  on  me. 

The  violets  made  a  field  one  mass  of  blue. 

Even  bluer  than  the  sky; 
The  little  brook  took  on  that  color  too, 

And  sang  more  merrily. 


286  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

"  Your  dress  is  blue,"  he  laughing  said.  "  Your  eyes,*' 
My  heart  sang,  "  sweeter  than  the  bending  skies." 

We  spoke  of  poets  dead  so  long  ago, 

And  their  wise  words. 
We  glanced  at  apple  trees,  like  drifted  snow; 

We  watched  the  nesting  birds,  — 
Only  a  moment !  Ah,  how  short  the  day ! 
Yet  all  the  winters  cannot  blow  its  sweetness  quite 
away. 

What  were  Mrs.  Palmer's  occupations  in  this 
idyllic  spot  ?  Letters  largely ;  for  even  when  all  other 
human  tics  are  cut,  these  tentacles  search  out  the 
runaway  and  seize  him  where  he  hides.  But  two 
hours  generally  sufficed  to  clear  Mrs.  Palmer's  day 
of  their  clutches.  Then  birds  and  books,  cooking 
and  sewing  were  at  hand.  Having  a  pretty  exten- 
sive knowledge  of  birds,  which  I  with  my  short  sight 
was  denied,  she  tried  to  spend  a  little  time  each  day 
sitting  about  the  fields,  in  attendance  on  her  wayward 
friends.  When  she  was  working  in  the  house  and  I 
on  the  piazza,  I  was  charged  to  catch  each  novel 
sound  or  sight  and  speak  it  not  too  loudly,  so  that 
she  might  glide  forth  with  the  opera  glass.  I  find 
memoranda  of  one  hundred  and  forty  varieties  of 
birds  discovered  on  the  farm.  She  loved  them  all; 
not  the  rare  oues  only,  but  those  which  make  the 


BOXFORD  £87 

ordinary  pleasure  of  the  day.  Bobolinks,  cuckoos,  and 
whip-poor-wills  abound  in  spring ;  wood-thrushes, 
her  favorites  among  all  birds,  in  the  summer. 
Vireos  and  orioles  are  in  pretty  constant  song. 
Owls  laugh  and  hoot  at  night.  Among  the  thick 
foliage  flash  tanagers,  jays,  blue-birds,  yellow-birds. 
Humming-birds  come  every  ten  minutes  to  the  tiger 
lilies  by  the  piazza,  and  on  one  of  its  rafters  each 
spring  a  phoebe  builds  and  brings  out  her  three 
broods.  In  and  out  of  a  hollow  tree  by  our  window 
flickers  were  always  moving,  and  into  the  nest  of  a 
song-sparrow  we  looked  as  we  raised  our  curtain. 
She  loved  the  clear  call  of  the  quail  and  the  drum 
of  the  partridge.  On  the  whole,  she  cared  more  for 
birds  than  for  the  abundant  and  lovely  wild  flowers. 
They  were  more  alive.  Yet  most  of  the  flowers  she 
knew,  and  had  them  always  on  her  tables.  It  made 
a  kind  of  festival  when  I  brought  her  the  first  col- 
umbine, the  first  w^ild  rose,  the  first  cardinal,  or  the 
first  blue  gentian.  The  boisterous  golden-rod  and 
the  wide  variety  of  opulent  asters  told  her  that  Lhe 
year  had  turned,  and  touched  her  with  a  sort  of  har- 
vest sadness.  The  pale  stalks  of  the  early  meadow 
rue  pleased  her  better.  But  she  had  a  hoart  fitted 
also  for  clover  and  apple  blossoms,  for  buttercups 
and  dandelions,  and  whatever  common  brightness 
spots  the  fertile  earth.  And  then  there  were  the 
butterflies,  the   bees  in    the  linden,  the    squirrels, 


288  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

the  woodchucks,  the  foxes.  The  behavior  of  all  these 
pretty  creatures  of  the  country  engaged  her  as  closely 
as  the  winter  perplexities  of  girls. 

There  was  pleasure  too  in  catching  at  the  right 
moment  the  successive  crops  of  berries  and  fruits, 
and  preserving  them  or  turning  them  into  jellies. 
She  acquired  some  renown  for  skill  in  persuading 
jellies  to  stiffen.  Her  rows  of  glasses  she  contem- 
plated as  a  miser  his  money-bags,  knowing  their 
power  of  carrying  summer  sweetness  to  winter  tables. 
Those  made  elsewhere  were  thought  to  lack  the  full 
Boxford  flavor.  Other  experiments  in  cookery  could 
be  tried  here,  and  the  Boxford  table  must  always 
have  a  special  delicacy  and  neatness.  If  I  missed  her 
in  the  library,  I  was  pretty  sure  to  find  her  in  the 
kitchen.  But  all  the  housekeeping  was  kept  simple. 
Our  home,  convenient  and  beautiful  enough,  was 
of  the  earlier  type,  plain  and  with  its  pleasures  rooted 
in  elemental  things.  The  modern  city  establishment, 
incongruously  dropped  among  fields  where  it  never 
grew,  yields  no  such  easy  conjunction  with  nature. 

In  later  years  she  turned  to  photography;  and  as 
soon  as  a  new  section  of  pathway  in  the  woods  was 
accomplished,  it  was  transferred  to  paper  and  taken 
to  Cambridge  for  her  winter  desk.  She  experimented 
with  different  methods  of  developing  and  printing; 
and  I  must  fit  up  a  dark  closet  with  appropriate 
pans,  acids,  and  waters.    But  in  two  respects  her 


BOXFORD  289 

education  had  been  defective.  The  busy  years  had 
allowed  her  no  practice  in  music;  and  though  she 
could  pick  out  a  strain  on  the  piano,  for  solid  enjoy- 
ment she  was  dependent  on  the  performance  of 
others.  For  similar  reasons  she  knew  no  games  until 
after  she  left  Wellesley,  and  summers  were  too  short 
for  acquiring  many.  In  two  or  three,  however,  she 
became  proficient.  There  was  a  species  of  solitaire 
which  she  liked,  though  she  soon  adjusted  it  so  as 
to  enable  two  persons  to  work  together  toward  a 
common  end.  She  remade  casino  so  that  two  players 
could  waste  a  half-hour  over  it  without  regret.  Domi- 
noes was  her  favorite  when  three  could  play.  Its 
luck  was  largely  reduced  by  the  division  of  all  pieces 
at  the  start,  by  the  exclusion  of  a  pool,  and  the  me- 
chanical turning  up  of  the  twenty-eighth  piece.  De- 
vices were  found  for  keeping  the  hands  decently  clear 
of  doublets,  and  skill  was  set  free  to  operate  the  long 
suits,  to  reckon  what  pieces  were  in  an  opponent's 
hand,  to  get  control  of  an  end,  or  to  block  the  game 
while  leaving  few  spots  in  the  hand  of  the  blockader. 
A  domino  score  was  kept  through  the  summer,  or 
even  from  year  to  year;  and  on  the  piazza  most  days 
after  dinner  three  opponents  struggled  to  shift  that 
score  in  rival  directions.  In  whist  she  never  became 
expert.  Too  seldom  were  four  present  in  playtime. 
And  chess  she  did  not  learn,  as  too  much  like  winter 
labors.  But  though  she  was  unfortunately  past  thirty 


290  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

when  she  first  took  up  technical  games,  she  found 
herself  not  unprepared.  Everything  had  been  a  game 
for  her.  Throughout  life  she  had  been  watching  con- 
trivance and  circumstance  as  they  run  side  by  side, 
and  had  delighted  in  the  contest  by  which  the  worse 
is  brought  into  subjection  to  the  better. 

At  Boxford  too  one  could  sew ;  and  in  sewing  she 
delighted,  as  Izaak  Walton  in  fishing.  It  was  a  con- 
templative occupation  and  an  excuse  for  peace,  one 
of  the  superiorities  of  her  sex.  As  the  needle  pushed 
its  way  along  the  seam,  there  came  leisure  for  dream- 
ing, remembering,  planning.  She  resorted  to  it  often 
when  alone;  and  as  I  read  aloud,  she  would  hem 
napkins  and  table-cloths  as  peacefully  as  a  cat  purrs. 
Usually  there  was  mending  at  hand,  and  embroidery 
could  be  taken  at  a  pinch.  But  the  more  aggressive 
forms  of  sewing  were  the  favorites.  From  time  to 
time  I  would  miss  her  for  a  day  at  her  desk.  She 
had  disappeared  into  untraceable  upper  regions. 
When  she  presented  herself  at  night,  I  must  admire 
the  old  gown  reconstructed,  or  the  spring  hat  which 
had  become  an  autumn  one.  Over  these  triumphs 
she  rejoiced  as  I  at  completing  a  magazine  article. 
But  such  happy  toils  were  not  allowed  to  invade  our 
evenings.  These  were  reserved  for  books  and  early 
bed  hours. 

Of  course  books  were  the  commonest  employment 
for  both  of  us.   I  had  my  urgent  studies,  and  close 


BOXFORD  291 

at  hand  she  hers.  In  winter  time  it  was  impossible 
to  amass  much  scholarly  capital.  Broken  up  as  we 
were  by  engagements  and  lectures,  study  then  coulc" 
merely  respond  to  immediate  needs.  But  in  the  un- 
interrupted hours  of  the  blessed  summer  one  could 
explore  and  heap  up  knowledge.  Not  that  she  even 
then  undertook  severe  connected  studies;  I  cer- 
tainly discouraged  them.  Her  summer  was  for  rest. 
And  then  too  she  was  not  a  bookish  person,  but  pri- 
marily a  woman  of  affairs  who  fed  herself  best  by 
direct  observation  of  men  and  things.  Yet  from 
books  she  derived  great  stimulus  and  was  always 
longing  to  come  at  them  more  closely.  Her  actual 
dealings  with  them  were  peculiar.  They  were  en- 
tirely subordinated  to  her  life  and  never  acquired 
rights  of  their  own.  Sometimes  she  would  go  a  month 
without  opening  one;  then  at  a  moment  of  unex- 
pected leisure  she  would  seize  whatever  came  to 
hand  —  story,  verse,  abstract  discussion,  it  made 
little  difference  how  severe  the  subject  —  and  in- 
stantly she  was  absorbed.  Nothing  could  shake 
her  attention.  Questions  went  unanswered,  and 
even  letters  neglected.  She  read  with  intensity  and 
speed.  I  have  rarely  known  her  to  take  more  than 
half  a  day  for  any  volume,  however  substantial,  and 
afterwards  she  knew  whatever  her  book  contained. 
Naturally  during  the  summer  these  times  of  burial 
in  a  book  were  more  permissible,  and  she  revelled 
in  the  opportunity. 


292  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Long  before  we  married  both  she  and  I  were 
devotees  of  English  poetry;  of  that  poetry,  I  mean, 
in  its  historic  relations  and  not  merely  in  its  single 
authors.  She  brought  from  Wellesley  a  good  acquain- 
tance with  both  the  earlier  and  the  later  material, 
and  increased  it  through  every  year  we  were  together. 
The  seventeenth-century  poets  were  especially  dear, 
though  of  course  the  enormous  and  passionately 
ethical  product  of  the  nineteenth  was  still  oftener  in 
our  hands.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  all  profitable 
communion  with  poetry  has  in  it  an  element  of 
stealth.  It  cannot  be  arranged  for,  like  other  inter- 
ests; but  requiring  more  of  personal  response  than 
they,  can  reach  its  best  results  only  when  stolen 
from  moments  already  more  or  less  pledged.  I  at 
least  have  formed  my  deepest  intimacies  with  the 
poets  when  I  have  come  upon  them  by  way  of  inter- 
ruption. During  the  busy  winter,  whenever  Mrs. 
Palmer  and  I  grew  tired,  work  was  cast  aside  and 
we  would  snatch  an  evening  for  the  restful  singers. 
I  would  read  aloud,  while  she  sewed  or  gazed  at  the 
fire.  There  is  no  such  means  for  clearing  cobwebs 
from  a  weary  brain  as  sweeping  it  with  disinfectant 
rhythms.  Better  than  music  it  is  for  me  because, 
while  it  is  no  less  sportive  than  music,  its  play  is 
ever  with  rationalities.  By  such  interruptions,  then, 
we  kept  ourselves  in  the  best  condition  both  for 
poetry  and  daily  work. 


BOXFORD  293 

Now  Boxford  was  one  long  interruption,  con- 
trived for  play,  beauty,  and  idealism.  Out  of  that 
soil  poetry  grew  as  naturally  as  grass  in  the  field. 
It  was  read  because  it  was  lived.  As  we  roamed  the 
woods  we  talked  it,  discussing  the  methods  and 
psychology  of  the  writers  we  had  been  reading.  A 
book  of  verses  was  often  with  us  underneath  the 
bough.  And  when  the  nights  were  fair  we  would 
carry  a  shaded  light  into  the  pines,  and  gathering  a 
considerable  company  from  the  two  houses,  all  as 
mad  as  we,  would  lie  on  the  fragrant  needles  and 
read  an  evening  through.  I  remember  one  August 
night  having  the  entire  "  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream"  in  the  Fairy  Ring,  when  owls  became  our 
chorus,  and  the  moon  sifted  through  the  branches 
as  if  it  were  Bottom's  lantern.  Naturally  then  when, 
moved  by  her  own  experience  of  a  kind  of  Golden 
Age,  she  began,  as  I  have  related  in  my  first  chapter, 
to  write  verse  herself,  her  lines  on  love,  nature,  and 
God  —  themes  never  parted  in  her  mind  —  had  an 
easy  depth  and  veracity  seldom  met  in  the  tangled 
and  groping  poetry  of  our  time.  A  few  examples  of 
her  country  verse  I  print. 

It  is  pleasant  to  write  this  lyric  chapter  on  her 
Boxford  home,  because  previously  I  have  so  often 
been  obliged  to  exhibit  her  under  harsh  conditions. 
She  had  always  a  heart  most  easily  made  glad,  but 
her  stern  early  years  gave  slender  opportunity  for 


294  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

indulging  Its  capacity  for  delight.  In  Boxford  this 
was  legitimately  let  loose.  Needing  little  outward 
stimulus  because  of  inward  peace,  it  fastened  on  the 
small  occasions  of  the  country  and  drew  from  them 
gaiety  and  health.  Here  we  went  out  with  joy  and 
were  led  forth  with  peace.  Mountains  and  hills  broke 
forth  before  us  into  singing,  and  all  the  trees  of  the 
fields  clapped  their  hands.  Not  that  troubles  did  not 
sometimes  overleap  our  hedges;  we  had  our  share. 
Death  did  not  pass  us  by,  nor  illness  either.  Our 
projects  did  not  always  succeed.  In  a  few  instances, 
saddest  of  all,  the  characters  of  those  we  loved  col- 
lapsed. But  guarded  as  we  were  by  each  other,  such 
things  did  not  crush  or  appall.  What  would  terrify 
another  usually  left  Mrs.  Palmer  undisturbed.  One 
day  as  she  lay  ill,  a  thunder  storm  came  swiftly  out 
of  the  southwest  and  struck  the  house,  destroying 
the  room  adjoining  her  own.  She  seemed  at  the  time 
much  interested  in  the  novel  event,  as  if  it  were  some- 
thing contrived  for  her  entertainment.  Only  after 
her  death  I  found  among  her  papers  a  hymn  with 
that  date  attached.  It  was  sung  at  the  Memorial 
Service  held  in  Harvard  College  Chapel.  I  print  it 
here  under  the  title  of  "The  Tempest." 

LETTERS 

We  are  finding  Boxford  the  same  restful  spot  as 
always,  only  at  this  Easter  season  more  peaceful 


BOXFORD  295 

still.  The  refreshment  of  it  fills  heart  and  brain. 
You  know  how  country  hours  dream  themselves 
away.  We  seem  to  have  been  here  but  a  day,  and  on 
Wednesday  must  go  reluctantly  back  to  Cambridge. 
The  skies  have  been  delicious  —  warm  sun,  with 
fresh  west  wind,  and  melting  moonlight  among  the 
pines  at  night.  The  fields  are  greening,  and  our  one 
day  of  gentle  constant  rain  is  bringing  the  wild 
flowers  through  the  dead  leaves.  There  are  none  in 
actual  blossom  yet.  But  the  robins  are  making  them- 
selves at  home  in  the  fields  and  apple  trees,  and  the 
swallows  and  bluebirds  are  important  over  spring 
house-hunting  and  settling.    I  know  how  they  feel. 

It  is  a  glowing  spring  morning.  The  transforma- 
tion of  the  world  is  wonderful.  Everything  you  see 
is  a  surprise.  The  fields  have  that  vivid  green  which 
is  so  brief.  The  crops  stand  in  shining  rows  two 
inches  high.  The  streams  are  full  of  sparkling 
water,  the  maples  flaming  red,  willows  in  their 
spring  glory,  and  all  the  light  woods  a-flutter  with 
young  leaves.  They  plainly  hint  of  bloodroot  and 
hepatica.  Everywhere  spring  work  goes  on  :  plowing 
in  some  places,  sowing  and  planting  in  others,  gar- 
dening and  housecleaning  wherever  people  live. 
Yesterday  we  went  through  the  wood  paths,  clearing 
away  the  winter's  droppings.  That 's  what  we  came 
for  —  the  silence  of  the  pine  woods.    Such  infinite 


296  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

stillness  gives  me  a  kind  of  awe.  And  to-morrow  we 
must  be  at  our  desks  in  Cambridge! 

Our  servant  is  enchanted  with  Boxford,  begging 
me  to  remain  here  all  the  year,  wishing  the  old  house 
were  in  Cambridge,  "if  we  must  live  there."  This 
delights  me  and  assures  a  peaceful  kitchen  for  the 
summer.  She  has  been  helping  me  plant  seeds  about 
the  windows  —  morning-glories,  sweet  peas,  pansies, 
nasturtiums.  We  have  upholstered  several  chairs 
and  painted  others,  setting  our  house  in  order. 
G.  is  wonderfully  well.  He  is  working  on  his  Homer, 
which  comes  out  this  summer  and  keeps  him  steadily 
busy. 

So  this  is  blessed  Boxford  again !  We  saw  it  at  five 
o'clock  to-day,  and  are  already  adjusting  ourselves 
to  it  with  expansive  satisfaction.  Did  we  ever  find  it 
so  green  and  sweet  before.?  The  haying  is  just 
begun,  and  the  fields  are  superb,  with  the  grass  up 
to  my  waist,  all  full  of  clover  and  daisies  and  butter- 
cups. Wild  roses  are  in  blossom  by  the  Run.  The 
phoebe  is  raising  her  second  brood  on  the  piazza, 
and  in  the  old  apple  trees  the  young  robins  and 
bluebirds  are  learning  to  fly.  You  should  be  here 
to  help  me  see  their  awkward  ways.  As  I  write  in 
the  library  a  whip-poor-will  comes  into  the  ash  tree 
and  sings  as  if  he  were  in  the  room  itself,  an  owl 


BOXFORD  297 

calls  far  away  in  the  pines,  and  the  moonlight  on 
the  Park  turns  it  into  fairy  land. 

We  were  amazed  at  the  coolness  and  freshness  of 
this  refuge  yesterday,  when  after  the  fierce  heat  of 
Cambridge  we  again  found  ourselves  under  our 
vines.  It  is  a  delicious  world,  the  second  "  sea-turn  " 
within  a  week  softening  and  refreshing  all.  I  wish  I 
could  send  some  of  it  to  you,  send  too  some  of  my 
easy  housekeeping.  In  this  respect  Boxford  improves. 
This  year  we  have  more  provision-wagons  coming 
to  our  door.  Twice  a  week  a  man  brings  us  fish 
straight  from  the  sea.  Ask  H.  if  she  will  have  steamed 
Duxbury  clams  or  a  broiled  live  lobster  for  lunch. 
I  wish  you  might  see  how  attractive  the  old  rooms 
look  with  their  new  curtains,  green  and  white,  and 
the  new  coverings  for  the  lounges  and  window  seats. 
And  then  we  have  time  here,  we  two.  Last  night  by 
lamplight  we  sat  late  on  the  piazza,  while  G.  read 
aloud  a  French  novel.  And  there  he  sits  now,  sway- 
ing back  and  forth  as  he  reads  or  watches  the  hay- 
makers in  the  Park,  or  pats  the  dog  at  his  feet,  who 
hardly  turns  his  head  from  gazing  far  away  at  the 
wood  chucks  in  the  field.  It  does  my  heart  good  to 
be  in  such  scenes.  Here  is  quiet  for  tired  nerves 
that  makes  one  able  to  meet  anything  smilingly 
afterwards. 


298  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

We  shall  expect  you  on  Saturday  afternoon. 
Dear  me !  I  wish  the  house  were  not  so  little.  Two 
rooms  are  hardly  large  enough  for  seven  Wellesley 
girls.  But  my  heart  is  large  enough,  and  I  want  them 
all  for  Sunday.  That  will  give  time  for  at  least  seven 
good  talks.  And  what  a  glorious  set  of  girls  it  is,  as 
you  name  them  over,  every  one  of  them !  This  week 
the  cook  has  been  on  a  vacation,  though  she  will  be 
here  when  you  arrive.  But  you  should  have  tasted 
the  nice  things  I  have  cooked.  G.  says  my  bread  is 
the  very  best  he  has  ever  eaten,  and  my  currant  jelly 
and  preserves  are  beautiful  to  behold.  How  you  will 
enjoy  the  fragrant  haying  and  the  cardinal  flowers 
in  the  Run! 

THE   TEMPEST 

He  shall  give  His  angels  charge 

Over  thee  in  all  thy  ways. 
Though  the  thunders  roam  at  large, 

Though  the  lightning  round  me  plays, 
Like  a  child  I  lay  my  head 
In  sweet  sleep  upon  my  bed. 

Though  the  terror  come  so  close, 
It  shall  have  no  power  to  smite; 

It  shall  deepen  my  repose, 
Turn  the  darkness  into  light. 


BOXFORD  299 

Touch  of  angels'  hands  is  sweet; 
Not  a  stone  shall  hurt  my  feet. 

All  Thy  waves  and  billows  go 

Over  me  to  press  me  down 
Into  arms  so  strong  I  know 

They  will  never  let  me  drown. 
Ah,  my  God,  how  good  Thy  will ! 
I  will  nestle  and  be  still. 


HALLOWED    PLACES 

I  pass  my  days  among  the  quiet  places 

Made  sacred  by  your  feet. 
The  air  is  cool  in  the  fresh  woodland  spaces. 

The  meadows  very  sweet. 

The  sunset  fills  the  wide  sky  with  its  splendor, 
The  glad  birds  greet  the  night. 

I  stop  and  listen  for  a  voice  strong,  tender, 
I  wait  those  dear  eyes'  light. 

You  are  the  heart  of  every  gleam  of  glory. 

Your  presence  fills  the  air; 
About  you  gathers  all  the  fair  year's  story, 

I  read  you  everywhere. 


SOO  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

BEFORE   THE    MOWING 

Never  a  sunny  morning 
Fuller  of  bliss. 
Never  gladder  faces 
Felt  the  sun's  warm  kiss 
Than  my  meadow  blossoms, 
Dreaming  not  of  this. 

Wild  roses  beckoned 

All  along  the  Run; 

Hardback  and  meadow  rue 

Sang,  "The  night  is  done!" 

All  the  grasses  waved  their  hands 

And  welcomed  back  the  sun. 

Daisies  and  clovers 

Nestled  side  by  side; 

Buttercups  and  black-eyed  Susans 

Tossed  their  heads  in  pride; 

And  a  tall  field  lily 

Looked  at  me  and  sighed. 

Ah,  my  meadow  grasses. 
How  your  breath  is  sweet! 
How  you  shelter  happy  homes 
Safe  around  your  feet ! 
How  you  shine,  relentless  death 
Suddenly  to  meet! 


BOXFORD  SOI 

SUMMER   RAIN 

Stand  with  me  here, 
My  very  dear! 
Watch  the  swift  armies  of  the  summer  rain 
Sweep  the  tall  grasses  of  the  Park, 
Changing  our  shining  noonday  into  dark. 
Hear  the  loud  thunder  roar,  again,  again. 
And  roll  and  triumph  in  this  summer  rain. 

The  little  birds  all  hide; 
The  cattle,  wandering  wide. 
Seek  the  safe  shelter  of  a  spreading  tree; 
The  old  dog  crouches  by  his  master's  feet. 
Dark  clouds  come  on,  an  army,  strong  and  fleet. 
Crash  follows  crash,  all  things  to  covert  flee; 
And  wind  and  lightning  drive  me,  —  close  to  thee ! 

THE    BUTTERFLY 

I  hold  you  at  last  in  my  hand. 
Exquisite  child  of  the  air. 

Can  I  ever  understand 

How  you  grew  to  be  so  fair? 

You  came  to  my  linden  tree 
To  taste  its  delicious  sweet. 


302  ALICE   FREEMAN   PALMER 

I  sitting  here  in  the  shadow  and  shine 
Playing  around  its  feet. 

Now  I  hold  you  fast  in  my  hand. 
You  marvelous  butterfly, 

Till  you  help  me  to  understand 
The  eternal  mystery. 

From  that  creeping  thing  in  the  dust 
To  this  shining  bliss  in  the  blue! 

God  give  me  courage  to  trust 

I  can  break  my  chrysalis  too! 


NIGHTFALL 

The  dear,  long,  quiet  summer  day 

Draws  to  its  close. 
To  the  deep  woods  I  steal  away 
To  hear  what  the  sweet  thrush  will  say 

In  her  repose. 

Beside  the  brook  the  meadow  rue 

Stands  tall  and  white. 
The  water  softly  slips  along, 
A  murmur  to  the  thrush's  song 

To  greet  the  night. 


BOXFORD  303 

Over  and  over,  like  a  bell, 

Her  song  rings  clear; 
The  trees  stand  still  in  joy  and  prayer. 
Only  the  angels  stir  the  air. 

High  Heaven  bends  near. 

I  bow  my  head  and  lift  my  heart 

In  thy  great  peace. 
Thy  Angelus,  my  God,  I  heed. 
By  the  still  waters  wilt  thou  lead 

Till  days  shall  cease. 


ON   A    GLOOMY   EASTER 

I  hear  the  robins  singing  in  the  rain. 

The  longed-for  Spring  is  hushed  so  drearily 
That  hungry  lips  cry  often  wearily, 

"Oh,  if  the  blessed  sun  would  shine  again!*' 

I  hear  the  robins  singing  in  the  rain. 

The  misty  world  lies  waiting  for  the  dawn. 
The  wind  sobs  at  my  window  and  is  gone. 

And  in  the  silence  come  old  throbs  of  pain. 

But  still  the  robins  sing  on  in  the  rain ; 

Not  waiting  for  the  morning  sun  to  break, 
Nor  listening  for  the  violets  to  wake. 

Nor  fearing  lest  the  snow  may  fall  again. 


304  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMLTl 

My  heart  sings  with  the  robins  in  the  rain; 

For  I  remember  it  is  Easter  morn, 
And  hfe  and  love  and  peace  are  all  newborn, 

And  joy  has  triumphed  over  loss  and  pain. 

Sing  on,  brave  robins,  sing  on  in  the  rain! 

You  know  behind  the  clouds  the  sun  must  shine; 
You  know  that  death  means  only  life  divine. 

And  all  our  losses  turn  to  heavenly  gain. 

I  lie  and  listen  to  you  in  the  rain. 

Better  than  Easter  bells  that  do  not  cease, 
Your  message  from  the  heart  of  God's  great  peace. 

And  to  his  arms  I  turn  and  sleep  again. 


DECEMBER 

Only  half  a  year  ago.  Love, 

Did  we  pass  this  way? 
Now  the  ground  is  white  with  snowdrifts. 

Chill  the  clouds  and  gray. 

Then  the  river  wandered  softly 

Onward  to  the  sea; 
All  the  glad  world  sang  in  chorus 

Just  for  you  and  me. 


BOXFORD  305 

Full  of  light  and  sound  and  fragrance, 

Night  shone  more  than  day; 
Till  we  held  our  breath  in  rapture, 

And  in  silence  lay. 

Now  the  earth  is  cold  and  lifeless, 

All  the  trees  are  bare; 
Only  now  and  then  a  snowflake 

Wanders  through  the  air. 

But  your  hand  sweeps  all  my  heartstrings 

To  a  joyful  tune ; 
In  the  world  it  may  be  winter, 

In  my  life  't  is  June. 

So  in  meeting  or  in  parting, 

Winter  time  or  Spring, 
You  still  fill  my  life  with  beauty, 

Teach  my  days  to  sing. 


A   COMMUNION   HYMN 

How  sweet  and  silent  is  the  place, 
My  God,  alone  with  thee ! 

Awaiting  here  thy  touch  of  grace, 
Thy  heavenly  mystery. 


306  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

So  many  ways  thou  hast,  dear  Lord, 
My  longing  heart  to  fill : 

Thy  lovely  world,  thy  spoken  word, 
The  doing  thy  sweet  will, 

Giving  thy  children  living  bread, 
Leading  thy  weak  ones  on, 

The  touch  of  dear  hands  on  my  head. 
The  thought  of  loved  ones  gone. 

Lead  me  by  many  paths,  dear  Lord, 
But  always  in  thy  way; 

And  let  me  make  my  earth  a  Heaven 
Till  next  Communion  Day. 


While  I  was  in  Boston  [writes  Gertrude  Wo 
Fielder]  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Alice  Freeman 
Palmer.  She  was  a  doer  of  the  word,  and  not  a 
hearer  only;  for  almost  every  week  through  the  hot 
summer  she  used  to  leave  her  peaceful,  calm  retreat 
in  the  country  and  go  to  Boston  to  talk  to  children 
of  the  slums  at  a  vacation  school.  These  schools 
are  kept  up  through  the  summer  in  the  poorest 
localities.  The  children  are  given  a  morning's 
session  of  music,  reading,  and  pretty  water-color 
sketches,  to  look  at.  They  can  bring  the  babies 
with  them;    and    many  indeed  could  not  come  at 


BOXFORD  307 

all  without  the  little  ones.  Here  is  the  story  as  Mrs. 
Palmer  told  it :  — 

One  July  morning  I  took  an  early  train.  It  was  a 
day  that  gave  promise  of  being  very,  very  hot  even 
in  the  country,  and  what  in  the  city !  When  I  reached 
my  destination  I  found  a  great  many  girls  in  the 
room,  but  more  babies  than  girls,  it  seemed.  Each 
girl  was  holding  one,  and  there  were  a  few  to  spare. 
"Now,"  I  said,  "what  shall  I  talk  to  you  about  this 
morning,  girls?"  "Talk  about  life,"  said  one  girl. 
Imagine !  "  I  am  afraid  that  is  too  big  a  subject 
for  such  a  short  time,"  I  said. 

Then  up  spoke  a  small,  pale-faced,  hea^'y-eyed 
child,  with  a  great  fat  baby  on  her  knee,  "Tell  us 
how  to  be  happy."  The  tears  rushed  to  my  eyes, 
and  a  lump  came  in  my  throat.  Happy  in  such  sur- 
roundings as  those  in  wliich,  no  doubt,  she  lived: 
perhaps  dirty  and  foul-smelling !  Happy,  with 
burdens  too  heavy  to  be  borne !  All  this  flashed 
through  my  mind  while  the  rest  took  up  the  word 
and  echoed,  "Yes,  tell  us  how  to  be  happy." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  will  give  you  my  three  rules 
for  being  happy;  but  mind,  you  must  all  promise 
to  keep  them  for  a  week,  and  not  skip  a  single  day, 
for  they  won't  work  if  you  skip  one  single  day."  So 
they  all  faithfully  and  solemnly  promised  that  they 
would  n't  skip  a  single  day. 


308         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

"The  first  rule  is  that  you  will  commit  something 
to  memory  every  day,  something  good.  It  need  n't 
be  much,  three  or  four  words  will  do,  just  a  pretty 
bit  of  a  poem,  or  a  Bible  verse.  Do  you  under- 
stand ? "  I  was  so  afraid  they  would  n't,  but  one 
little  girl  with  flashing  black  eyes  jumped  up  from 
the  corner  of  the  room  and  cried,  "I  know;  you 
want  us  to  learn  something  we  'd  be  glad  enough  to 
remember  if  we  went  blind."  "That's  it,  exactly!" 
I  said.  "Something  you  would  like  to  remember  if 
you  went  blind."  And  they  all  promised  that  they 
would,  and  not  skip  a  single  day. 

"  The  second  rule  is :  Look  for  something  pretty 
every  day;  and  don't  skip  a  day,  or  it  won't  work. 
A  leaf,  a  flower,  a  cloud  —  you  can  all  find  some- 
thing. Is  n't  there  a  park  somewhere  near  here  that 
you  can  all  walk  to?"  (Yes,  there  was  one.)  "And 
stop  long  enough  before  the  pretty  thing  that  you 
have  spied  to  say,  '  Is  n't  it  beautiful ! '  Drink  in 
every  detail,  and  see  the  loveliness  all  through.  Can 
you  do  it?"   They  promised,  to  a  girl. 

"  My  third  rule  is  —  now,  mind,  don't  skip  a  day 
—  Do  something  for  somebody  every  day."  "  Oh, 
that's  easy!"  they  said,  though  I  thought  it  would 
be  the  hardest  thing  of  all.  Just  think,  that  is  what 
those  children  said,  "Oh,  that's  easy!  Did  n't  they 
have  to  tend  babies  and  run  errands  every  day, 
and  wasn't  that  doing  something  for  somebody?" 
"Yes,"  I  answered  them,  "it  was." 


BOXFORD  309 

At  the  end  of  the  week,  the  day  being  hotter  than 
the  last,  if  possible,  I  was  wending  my  way  along  a 
very  narrow  street,  when  suddenly  I  was  literally 
grabbed  by  the  arm,  and  a  little  voice  said,  "I  done 
it!"  "Did  what!"  I  exclaimed,  looking  down,  and 
seeing  at  my  side  a  tiny  girl  with  the  proverbial  fat 
baby  asleep  in  her  arms.  Now  I  will  admit  that  it 
was  awfully  stupid  of  me  not  to  know,  but  my 
thoughts  were  far  away,  and  I  actually  did  not  know 
what  she  was  talking  about.  "  What  you  told  us  to, 
and  I  never  skipped  a  day,  neither,"  replied  the  child, 
in  a  rather  hurt  tone.  "  Oh,"  I  said,  "  now  I  know 
what  you  mean.  Put  down  the  baby,  and  let's  talk 
about  it."  So  down  on  the  sidewalk  she  deposited 
the  sleeping  infant,  and  she  and  I  stood  over  it  and 
talked. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  never  skipped  a  day,  but  it 
was  awful  hard.  It  was  all  right  when  I  could  go  to 
the  park,  but  one  day  it  rained  and  rained,  and  the 
baby  had  a  cold,  and  I  just  could  n't  go  out,  and  I 
thought  sure  I  was  going  to  skip,  and  I  was  standin' 
at  the  window,  'most  cryin',  and  I  saw  "  —  here  her 
little  face  brightened  up  with  a  radiant  smile  —  "I 
saw  a  sparrow  takin'  a  bath  in  the  gutter  that  goes 
round  the  top  of  the  house,  and  he  had  on  a  black 
necktie,  and  he  was  handsome."  It  was  the  first  time 
I  had  heard  an  English  sparrow  called  handsome,  but 
I  tell  you  it  was  n't  laughable  a  bit  —  no,  not  a  bit. 


SIO         ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

"And  then,  there  was  another  day,"  she  went  on, 
"and  I  thought  I  should  have  to  skip  it,  sure.  There 
was  n't  another  thing  to  look  at  in  the  house.  The 
baby  was  sick,  and  I  could  n't  go  out,  and  I  was 
feelin'  terrible,  when  "  —  here  she  caught  me  by  both 
hands,  and  the  most  radiant  look  came  to  her  face  — 
"  I  saw  the  baby's  hair ! "  "  Saw  the  baby's  hair ! " 
I  echoed.  "Yes,  a  little  bit  of  sun  came  in  the  win- 
dow, and  I  saw  his  hair,  an'  I  '11  never  be  lonesome 
any  more."  And  catching  up  the  baby  from  the 
sidewalk,  she  said,  "See!"  and  I  too  saw  the  baby's 
hair.  "Isn't  it  beau-ti-ful .'^ "  she  asked.  "Yes,  it 
is  beautiful,"  I  answered.  You  have  heard  of  artists 
raving  over  Titian  hair.  Well,  as  the  sun  played  on 
this  baby's  hair,  there  were  the  browns,  the  reds,  the 
golds,  which  make  up  the  Titian  hair.  Yes,  it  was 
truly  beautiful.  "Now,  shall  we  go  on?"  I  said, 
taking  the  heavy  baby  from  her. 

The  room  was  literally  packed  this  time ;  ten  times 
as  many  girls,  and  as  many  babies  as  your  mind  will 
conceive  of.  I  wish  you  could  have  listened  with  me 
to  the  experiences  of  those  little  ones.  Laughter  and 
tears  were  so  commingled  that  I  don't  know  which 
had  the  mastery. 


XTV 

DEATH 

"  We  make  too  much  of  the  circumstance  men  call 
death.  All  life  is  one.  All  service  one,  be  it  here  or 
there.  Death  is  only  a  little  door  from  one  room  to 
another.  We  had  better  not  think  much  about  it, 
nor  be  afraid  for  ourselves  or  for  those  who  are  dear 
to  us ;  but  rather  make  life  here  so  rich  and  sweet  and 
noble  that  this  will  be  our  Heaven.  We  need  no  other 
till  He  comes  and  calls  us  to  larger  life  and  fresh 
opportunity." 

So  spoke  Mrs.  Palmer  at  the  funeral  of  a  friend, 
and  such  was  always  her  habit,  —  to  make  little 
account  of  death.  In  accordance  with  her  wise  words 
I  should  naturally  record  here  only  the  bare  fact  that 
she  died  in  Paris  on  December  6,  1902.  Her  life  was 
so  beautiful  and  triumphant,  so  naturally  imparting 
strength  to  others,  and  in  its  ending  so  happily  sud- 
den, that  it  would  be  almost  an  insult  to  her  mem- 
ory to  recall  dolorous  circumstances  connected  with 
her  departure  and  associate  thoughts  of  sadness  with 
so  bright  a  being.  Life,  not  death,  is  for  all  who  loved 
her  the  significant  reality.  To  dwell  on  the  facts  of 
parting  is  as  inappropriate  as  to  report  how  she 


S12  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

closed  her  house  when  she  was  preparing  for  a 
sabbatical  year  in  Europe. 

Yet  among  what  may  be  broadly  called  the  living 
features  of  death  two  deserve  attention :  it  no  less  than 
any  other  event  is  expressive  of  character,  and  the 
conditions  under  which  it  appears  often  give  grounds 
for  condemning  or  approving  previous  methods  of 
life.  To  leave  either  of  these  points  unnoticed,  more 
particularly  the  latter,  would  render  my  account  of 
Mrs.  Palmer  imperfect.  I  shall  accordingly  use  her 
death  as  the  occasion  for  considering  some  general 
questions  about  her :  the  brevity  of  her  life,  her  physi- 
cal constitution,  the  care  of  her  health,  and  the  cost 
of  her  large  accomplishment. 

Mrs.  Palmer  was  an  extremely  busy  woman.  The 
amount  of  work  she  bore  was  enormous  and  the 
diversity  of  it  no  less  remarkable.  Since  a  large  por- 
tion of  it  was  connected  with  some  sort  of  leadership, 
it  brought  upon  her  great  responsibility  and  taxed 
her  bodily  and  mental  strength  to  the  utmost.  Her 
domestic  cares  were  not  less  than  those  of  ordinary 
women,  nor  less  exquisitely  performed.  She  did  the 
usual  amount  of  housekeeping,  sewing,  visiting,  re- 
ceiving guests,  looking  after  the  sick  and  poor,  and  at- 
tending social  functions.  In  the  occupations  counted 
specifically  feminine  she  even  excelled.  Yet  after 
these  were  all  beautifully  accomplished  there  came 
those  public  duties  to  which  she  gave  two  thirds  of 


DEATH  313 

her  time.  In  these  she  carried  almost  the  ordinary 
work  of  a  college  official,  a  minister,  and  a  business 
man  combined.  And  while  it  is  true  that  until  her 
marriage  she  was  free  from  household  cares,  this 
advantage  was  offset  by  the  grinding  character  of 
the  tasks  in  school  and  college,  and  by  the  unlimited 
demands  to  which  her  dutiful  nature  there  exposed 
her.  On  the  whole  it  may  be  said  that  from  girlhood 
to  the  grave,  with  only  brief  intervals  after  marriage, 
her  powers  were  kept  under  incessant  tension.  Nat- 
urally then  she  was  often  judged  harshly.  Was  not 
her  career  simply  another  instance  of  headlong  and 
ill-regulated  zeal .''  Did  she  not  by  example  encour- 
age repose-needing  women  to  imdertake  what  was 
excessive  even  for  a  man  ?  Powers  like  hers  should 
have  been  treated  with  respect  and  guarded.  Was 
not  her  wastefulness  sure  to  result  in  early  collapse  ? 
And  when  her  death  before  the  age  of  fifty  startled 
the  many  who  needed  her,  these  doubts  were  doubled 
and  the  inquiry  was  inevitable  whether  it  would  not 
have  been  wiser  to  continue  longer  at  a  slower  pace  ? 
I  hope  every  reader  of  my  book  has  been  asking  these 
questions.    This  is  the  place  to  answer  them. 

No  one  would  affirm  that  her  life  in  college  or  in 
her  early  teaching  was  ideal.  It  contained  twice  too 
much  work  and  only  half  enough  refreshment.  It 
was  attended  throughout  by  crushing  anxieties.  Had 
her  health  been  properly  regarded  at  this  time,  she 


814  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

might  have  eradicated  some  of  the  physical  weak- 
nesses she  inherited  and  so  have  greatly  lightened 
the  labors  of  later  years.  That  she  did  not  do  so, 
however,  was  not  her  fault.  The  exactions  of  those 
years  she  did  not  choose.  They  were  laid  upon  her 
by  poverty.  She  had  an  education  to  gain,  a  living 
to  earn ;  and  she  accepted  their  hard  conditions  as 
cheerfully  as  have  hundreds  of  other  young  men 
and  women.  I  wonder  that  she  passed  through  them 
with  so  little  physical  damage  and  drew  from  them 
such  refinement  and  charm. 

Nor  do  I  see  any  signs  of  carelessness  in  the 
Wellesley  time.  During  her  teaching  there  the  dis- 
turbed conditions  inseparable  from  the  starting  of 
a  new  college  overworked  all  its  Faculty,  utterly 
breaking  down  its  leaders,  —  the  founder,  the  presi- 
dent, and  herself.  She  alone  showed  such  sagacity 
in  methods  of  restoration  that  she  was  soon  able  to 
return  to  work  and  accept  the  presidency;  her  chief 
hesitation  in  doino;  so  bein^,  as  the  letters  I  have 
printed  show,  the  doubt  whether  she  ought  to  ex- 
pose herself  to  new  exhaustion.  Once  having  de- 
cided that  the  college  was  more  important  than  her- 
self, she  was  obliged  to  give  herself  wholly  to  its 
demands.  Yet  even  then  she  studied  protective  mea- 
sures. She  kept  a  horse  and  took  regular  exercise; 
she  was  careful  of  food  and  sleep ;  at  times  of  special 
fatigue  she  would  spend  a  day  or  two  at  a  solitary 


DEATH  315 

room  in  Boston;  and  as  soon  as  a  cottage  could  be 
built  at  Wellesley  for  housing  a  few  girls,  she  re- 
moved from  the  great  hall  and  sheltered  herself  in 
its  comparative  seclusion.  On  the  whole,  there  were 
few  means  of  protection  available  during  this  glo- 
riously self-sacrificing  period  which  she  did  not 
employ. 

I  speak  of  these  matters  somewhat  in  detail  be- 
cause, like  most  great  workers,  she  attached  much 
importance  to  the  physical  basis  of  life  and  con- 
stantly warned  her  girls  against  disregard  of  the  laws 
of  health.  Yet  it  should  also  be  said  that  she  ex- 
pected her  life  to  be  a  short  one  and  was  ever  so- 
licitous how  to  effect  what  she  desired  within  its  brief 
compass.  We  have  seen  how  the  uncertainties  of 
her  college  years  led  her  to  treat  each  of  them  as  if 
it  were  to  be  her  last;  and  something  of  the  same 
feeling  attended  her  through  life,  I  hardly  know  why. 
Partly  it  came  from  her  knowledge  of  the  inherited 
dangers  of  her  constitution;  still  more,  I  think,  from 
her  sense  of  the  urgency  of  human  needs,  and  such 
a  recognition  as  Jesus  had  that  those  who  would 
meet  them  must  be  ready  to  be  consumed.  But  this 
was  not  all.  There  was  besides  a  sort  of  presentiment 
which  I  could  never  fully  explore  or  remove.  It  was 
seldom  asserted,  never  argued;  only  when  I  would 
attempt  to  make  some  provision  for  her  old  age,  I 
was  always  met  by  the  quiet  words,  "  You  need  n't 


316  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

I  shan't  survive  you.  My  life  will  be  short."  I  think 
she  was  surprised  that  the  end  was  deferred  so 
long. 

Expecting  then  a  brief  career,  one  might  suppose 
she  would  have  cleared  it  of  all  unnecessary  toil  and 
so  have  "saved  her  strength."  But  this  popular 
phrase  she  utterly  distrusted,  and  her  life  ought  to 
do  much  to  make  that  distrust  more  general.  The 
notion  that  to  each  of  us  is  allotted  a  definite  amount 
of  vigor,  and  that  expenditure  causes  diminution  of 
the  total  sum,  she  regarded  as  a  pernicious  mechan- 
ical superstition.  It  is  certainly  the  common  excuse 
for  inaction,  and  more  than  anything  else  checks  the 
full  development  of  women.  Idleness  is  in  reality  far 
more  dangerous  than  work.  It  is  in  the  nature  of  life 
to  grow  by  exercise  and,  with  proper  care,  to  increase 
through  outgo.  The  blacksmith  does  not  enfeeble 
his  arm  by  pounding ;  that  is  his  method  of  enlarg- 
ing its  power.  She  believed  continuous  work  to  be 
conducive  to  health  and  she  proved  it  so  by  practice. 
Beginning  weak  and  working  steadily,  often  unable 
to  secure  proper  safeguards  against  exhaustion,  she 
escaped  all  the  ills  from  which  idle  women  suffer, 
acquired  remarkable  hardihood,  and  almost  every 
year  found  herself  sturdier  than  before.  If  there  is 
any  one  lesson  which  Mrs.  Palmer's  life  preeminently 
teaches,  it  is  the  life-preserving  influence  of  persistent, 
severe,  and  judiciously  managed  labor. 


DEATH  317 

I  have  said  that  such  judicious  management  was 
not  fully  possible  until  her  marriage.  Throughout 
the  third  period  of  her  life,  as  I  have  divided  it,  her 
public  services  were  largely  of  a  sacrificial  sort  and 
were  understood  to  have  little  reference  to  her  own 
needs.  But  in  her  last  fifteen  years,  in  what  I  have 
called  her  fourth  period,  there  was  no  such  clash  of 
interests.  Though  never  more  widely  useful,  she 
was  then  heartily  enjoying  the  full  exercise  of  dis- 
ciplined powers.  Culpable  indeed  she  must  have 
been  if  during  these  years  she  overworked. 

On  the  whole,  I  do  not  think  she  did.  Like  every- 
body, she  had  her  times  of  weariness.  The  accident 
described  in  my  twelfth  chapter  brought  permanent 
damage.  But  neither  this  nor  any  previous  fatigue 
had  any  influence  in  shortening  her  life.  She  died  of  a 
rare  disease,  intus-susception  of  the  intestine,  a  disease 
against  which  no  precautions  are  possible.  Its  causes 
are  totally  unknown.  Many  physicians  believe  it  to 
be  congenital,  and  all  those  consulted  agreed  that 
nothing  which  she  had  done  or  left  undone  could  in 
any  way  have  hastened  it.  When  the  trouble  began 
she  was  in  excellent  health,  and  in  the  intervals  of 
its  covert  advance  she  was  altogether  free  from  dis- 
turbance. Of  the  many  experienced  surgeons  sum- 
moned for  diagnosis  not  one  suspected  danger  till 
five  days  before  she  died,  nor  after  they  advised  an 
operation  did  they  see  much  chance  of  recovery. 


S18  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Yet  even  then  so  hardy  was  she  that  she  came 
through  one  of  the  severest  operations  known  to 
surgery,  lay  painless  and  peaceful  for  three  days,  and 
would  probably  have  survived  had  nature  endowed 
her  at  birth  with  a  full  pulse.  The  circumstances 
of  her  death  give  strong  confirmation  to  her  gospel 
of  work. 

Yet  in  expounding  that  gospel  I  ought  to  make 
plain  how  much  she  excluded  from  it  which  ordina- 
rily slips  in.  She  seldom  hurried,  never  worried,  ad- 
mitted no  regrets  for  the  past  or  anxieties  for  the 
future.  Drudgery  she  abhorred,  and  consequently 
avoided  too  great  single  continuity  on  the  one  hand, 
and  disjointed  fragmentariness  on  the  other.  From 
these  insidious  dangers  she  was  saved  by  habits  of 
concentrated  attention,  by  the  deep  interest  she  took 
in  all  she  did,  by  such  perception  of  its  human 
bearings  that  no  part  of  it  became  mechanical,  by 
quick  separation  of  the  important  and  unimportant, 
by  perpetual  humor,  and  steady  enthusiasm  —  the 
whole  supplemented  by  a  kind  of  natural  vagrancy. 
She  dropped  work  as  easily  as  she  took  it  up,  and 
never  acquired  the  fatal  inability  to  stop.  It  was 
the  whole-hearted  character  of  that  work  which  kept 
it  sane  and  safe.  Joy  is  protective.  Where  soul, 
mind,  and  strength  are  all  engaged  together,  invigor- 
ation  usually  follows.  It  is  the  divided  nature  which 
Jacerates;   the   hands   in   one   place,   the   heart   ia 


DEATH  319 

another.  Putting  herself  fully  into  her  work,  and 
freeing  it  from  frictions,  she  made  an  amount  that 
was  appalling  to  others  really  beneficial. 

But  while  certain  peculiarities  of  her  tempera- 
ment thus  prevented  injury  from  work,  others  ex- 
posed her  to  it.  She  was  ever  easy  to  be  entreated, 
and  each  new  thing  appeared  with  an  altogether 
special  claim.  Every  good  woman  is  in  danger  of 
over-helpfulness.  Recognizing  this  beautiful  danger, 
after  our  marriage  I  constituted  myself  her  watch- 
dog and  barked  violently  at  whatever  suspicious  per- 
sons I  saw  approach.  It  pleases  me  to  think  that  by 
such  hostilities  I  cut  off  a  quarter  of  her  labors,  the 
least  important  quarter.  Though  occasionally  chafing 
under  the  restraint,  she  on  the  whole  saw  my  use- 
fulness and  rewarded  me  with  adequate  thanks. 

If  then  this  is  a  sufficient  account  of  that  curious 
diligence  which  might  easily  be  supposed  to  have 
induced  her  comparatively  early  death,  it  only 
remains  to  state  briefly  the  circumstances  under 
which  her  life  closed,  especially  those  which  most 
reveal  her  character. 

In  1902,  when  a  Sabbatical  Year  became  due  me, 
we  were  neither  of  us  inclined  to  use  it.  Never  had 
home  seemed  so  attractive,  nor  our  employments  so 
engrossing.  But  in  the  past  we  had  derived  such 
benefit  from  these  periodic  relaxations  that,  not 
daring  to  reject  this  one  altogether,  we  decided  to 


S20  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

accept  the  first  part  of  it  and  to  resume  work  in 
the  middle  of  the  year.  Even  then  we  lingered  at 
Boxford  through  the  summer  and  did  not  sail  till  the 
first  of  October.  Some  petty  circumstances  of  our  de- 
parture are  perhaps  characteristic  enough  to  deserve 
mention. 

We  were  to  sail  on  Wednesday  morning.  During 
the  preceding  week  I  could  not  induce  Mrs.  Palmer 
to  pack.  That  was  our  last  week  in  Boxford,  and 
we  must  enjoy  it.  When  Monday  came,  we  set  about 
the  business  in  earnest;  but  soon  she  wandered  out 
under  the  peach  tree,  and  came  back  reporting  that 
some  of  the  peaches  were  ripe,  and  I  must  get  one 
she  had  noticed.  I  did  so,  and  she  declared  it  deli- 
cious. It  would  be  a  shame  to  leave  such  fruit  to 
perish.  We  might  take  a  little  rest  from  packing  and 
put  up  a  few  jars  for  winter.  So  we  sat  merrily  down 
on  the  piazza  and  began  peeling  peaches.  On  one 
excuse  and  another  I  was  sent  back  to  the  tree  for 
more,  till  we  had  disposed  of  a  bushel.  Then  the  full 
absurdity  of  the  situation  came  over  me,  and  I  said, 
"  What  fools  we  are !  With  all  this  work  on  hand,  to 
sit  through  a  morning  peeling  peaches!  As  if  we 
could  eat  a  bushel  of  peaches  next  year!"  "Next 
year?"  she  answered.  "Nonsense!  They  will  be 
good  for  years  to  come,  and  the  little  packing  is 
easily  managed."  And  so  it  proved.  She  provided 
for  my  table  long  after  she  had  left  it,  and  time 


DEATH  321 

enough  was  found  during  the  packing  for  two  other 
considerable  events.  Tuesday  afternoon  we  spent  at 
the  wedding  of  a  friend;  and  Tuesday  morning  a 
young  relative  from  the  great  house  crossed  the 
lawn  to  say  that  a  young  man  in  Cambridge  had  just 
written  her  a  letter  which  promised  something  simi- 
lar in  the  future  for  herself.  Mrs.  Palmer  was  all 
sympathy  at  once.  We  must  have  that  young  man 
here  immediately.  I  must  ride  to  the  village  and 
telephone  orders  for  him  to  appear  that  night.  And 
so  it  happened  that  our  last  evening  at  home  was 
given  to  a  rejoicing  pair,  and  the  trunks  were  seem- 
ingly left  to  pack  themselves.  But  this  they  did.  On 
Wednesday  morning  they  stood  quite  ready,  and 
nothing  was  afterwards  missed  from  them  which 
Europe  required. 

Two  young  friends  joined  us  in  Boston :  Miss  S. 
to  be  our  companion  throughout,  and  Mr.  M.  for 
the  first  month  only.  An  important  fifth  member 
of  our  party  was  the  old  English  poet,  George 
Herbert,  whose  works  I  was  then  editing  and  whose 
embroidered  phrases  were  constantly  on  our  lips. 
On  landing  in  England,  and  after  the  usual  few  days 
at  the  Lakes,  we  put  ourselves  under  his  guidance, 
following  him  to  all  the  places  where  he  lived  from 
birth  to  death.  Many  of  these  places  we  had  visited 
before,  but  a  few  literary  " finds"  now  made  in  them 
gave  Mrs.  Palmer  much  pleasure.    So  did  a  little 


322  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

stay  in  Oxford  with  some  old  friends.  London  gave 
her  the  magnificent  pageant  of  King  Edward  acknow- 
ledging his  recovery  from  recent  illness ;  gave  her,  too, 
its  National  Gallery  and  the  music  at  St.  Paul's. 
About  the  first  of  November,  Mr.  M.  leaving  us, 
we  crossed  to  Paris.  Here  we  found  our  old  rooms 
occupied,  but  were  able  to  establish  ourselves  close 
at  hand  in  an  apartment  at  67  Avenue  Marceau. 
It  is  a  wide,  clean,  and  sunny  street,  the  only  objec- 
tion to  this  new  home  being  that  it  was  larger  and 
more  magnificent  than  was  our  usual  habit.  But  we 
closed  its  great  reception  room,  with  the  mirrors  and 
gilded  furniture,  and  gathered  about  the  open  fire  in 
the  library.  Here  our  little  Marie  served  our  meals ; 
here  during  most  of  the  mornings  and  evenings  Mrs. 
Palmer  sewed,  wrote,  or  listened ;  and  in  the  after- 
noons renewed  her  old  pleasure  in  the  Louvre,  the 
river,  Notre  Dame,  and  the  Theatre  Fran9ais. 
Sundays  were  poorer  than  during  earlier  visits  be- 
cause of  the  death  of  the  great  Protestant  preacher, 
Bersier.  She  counted  him  inferior  only  to  Phillips 
Brooks. 

But  she  had  the  little  excursions  which  she  always 
enjoyed.  One  sunny  day  we  spent  at  Amiens 
Cathedral ;  one  at  St.  Denis ;  and  one  evening  on 
reading  the  paper  she  exclaimed,  "To-day  is  All 
Saints'  Day,  and  seventy  thousand  people  have  been 
at  Pere  la  Chaise.  To-morrow  there  will  be  as  many 


DEATH  S23 

more.  We  must  go."  "But  why,"  I  said,  "go  where 
there  is  a  crowd  ? "  "  Why,  so  as  to  be  with  people 
and  join  them  in  decorating  the  graves."  We  had 
never  visited  Pere  la  Chaise  before;  but  she  was 
happy  in  climbing  the  flower-lined  Rue  Roquette, 
in  hunting  out  the  monuments  of  those  she  knew, 
in  watching  the  funeral  observances,  so  unlike  those 
of  her  own  land,  and  especially  in  mingling  with  the 
mourning  multitude.  As  she  approached  the  gate, 
a  girl  offered  her  violets.  She  bought  a  bunch,  saying 
she  would  carry  them  to  Heloise,  whom  she  admired 
as  a  great  administrator  no  less  than  as  an  ardent 
woman.  She  found  the  tomb  where  the  stone  lovers 
lie,  and  tossed  the  violets  over  the  railing.  That 
night,  meditating  by  the  fireside,  she  remarked,  "I 
like  cremation  better.  Not  that  I  would  insist  on  it 
against  the  wishes  of  friends.  Burial  concerns  the 
living  more  than  the  dead.  But  I  hope  I  may  be 
cremated."  Such  were  the  instructions  I  received 
only  a  month  before  I  went  with  her  for  the  second 
time  to  Pere  la  Chaise. 

During  much  of  that  month  she  was  not  ill,  but 
merely  ailing.  From  time  to  time  she  was  able  to  go 
about  freely,  and  between  the  attacks  of  seeming 
indigestion  to  be  as  well  as  ever.  The  last  occasion 
on  which  she  went  out  was  in  response  to  a  request 
for  an  address  at  a  girls'  school.  I  am  told  she  was 
never  more  delightful,  though  only  three  weeks  later 


324  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

that  school  sat  with  me  at  her  funeral.  There  fol- 
lowed this  address  a  week  under  the  doctor's  charge, 
with  apparent  cure;  another,  of  fresh  outbreak  and 
of  consultation  with  three  eminent  physicians,  all 
perplexed ;  in  another  still  came  the  decision  to  oper- 
ate, the  private  hospital,  the  death.  During  her  last 
fortnight  she  lay  most  of  the  time,  patient  and  inter- 
ested, in  the  library,  and  had  me  read  her  two  books 
which  had  just  been  sent,  President  Hyde's  little 
volume,  "  Jesus'  Way,"  and  Quiller-Couch's  "  Ox- 
ford Book  of  Poetry."  She  continued  to  discuss  my 
problems  in  Herbert;  and  when  the  Boston  papers 
arrived,  I  must  quickly  discover  the  home  news  and 
report  it  all.  To  the  last  she  did  not  lose  that  mental 
eagerness.  A  spasm  of  pain  would  overwhelm  her, 
leaving  her  for  a  moment  unconscious ;  then  the  eyes 
would  unclose  and  she  would  say,  "There,  that  is 
gone ;  and  what  did  they  do  on  the  School  Board  ?  " 
She  lived  fully,  so  long  as  she  drew  breath. 

On  Wednesday  of  the  last  week  the  doubtful 
doctors  came  early,  and  after  consultation  ordered 
an  operation  for  that  noon;  they  did  not  conceal 
from  her  that  it  would  probably  be  fatal,  for  in  all  the 
necessary  examinations  she  had  been  the  coolest  and 
helpfulest  of  the  company.  They  leaving  us  at  nine, 
we  had  an  hour  together  before  she  was  removed. 

And  then  appeared  for  the  last  time  that  strange 
combination  of  clear  intelligence  and  emotional  ardor. 


DEATH  325 

of  sweet  womanliness  and  attention  to  business, 
which  ever  distinguished  her.  Her  fearless  wise  talk 
had  even  its  usual  humorous  turns.  As  the  door 
closed,  she  bade  me  fetch  a  package  of  papers  and 
handed  me  back  a  little  group.  These  were  her  en- 
gagements for  the  winter.  I  must  write  to  these 
people  and  not  let  them  be  disappointed.  Then  there 
were  the  friends  at  home,  to  each  of  whom  some- 
thing was  sent;  and  I  must  watch  over  her  parents 
and  sister.  "  Bobby  will  miss  me,"  she  said.  He  was 
her  godson.  I  must  not  spend  the  summer  in  Box- 
ford.  Later  ones  would  be  good  there,  but  this  year 
I  had  better  carry  out  an  engagement  to  lecture  in 
California.  She  thought  she  understood  my  work. 
I  had  promised  her  a  little  book  on  ethics.  Could  I  do 
that  in  a  year  ?  And  then  I  must  not  allow  anything 
to  intervene  till  our  Herbert  was  published.  That 
would  require  two  years  more ;  and  so  it  did.  Beyond 
that,  nobody  could  foresee.  But  there  would  be  our 
two  colleges,  our  boys  and  girls  —  work  enough  to 
keep  me  busy,  work  too  which  had  interested  us 
both.  She  could  think  of  no  last  words  to  say;  our 
whole  lives  had  spoken  those.  We  knew  each  other's 
deep  love ;  and  I  must  treat  myself  honorably,  allow- 
ing no  doubts  or  regrets  to  come.  "  Call  our  faithful 
Marie  and  give  her  this  dress.  And  now,"  she  said, 
"you  must  go  to  the  hospital  and  have  the  room 
ready  when  the  ambulance  arrives." 


326  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

I  had  some  fears  about  the  hospital.  Sanitarily 
excellent  as  it  was,  and  containing  the  best  skill  in 
France,  its  nurses  were  black-robed  nuns  with  white 
head-bands.  Her  room  was  consecrated  to  John  the 
Baptist,  and  an  image  of  the  saint  stood  by  her  head. 
Formalism  in  religion  was  peculiarly  obnoxious  to 
her.  The  simplicity  prized  everywhere  else  she 
counted  essential  in  her  approaches  to  God.  It 
struck  me  therefore  as  bizarre  that  this  widely  loved 
American  and  Protestant  should  die  almost  alone 
among  Roman  Catholics,  persons  who  knew  no 
English  words  and  could  comprehend  still  less  the 
conditions  of  mind  behind  them.  But  all  my  fears 
were  set  at  rest  the  next  morning.  As  I  entered,  her 
face  was  all  aglow  over  "  this  blessed  place  where  the 
air  seems  full  of  religion,  and  one  feels  entirely  free 
and  at  ease."  She  reminded  me  of  her  two  previous 
hospital  experiences,  but  neither  so  satisfactory  as 
this.  I  had  to  check  her  eager  whisperings  and  to  say 
that  we  must  use  whatever  strength  she  had  pretty 
skilfully  if  we  would  celebrate  our  wedding-day  a 
fortnight  hence.  With  a  gay  smile  she  answered  that 
together  we  had  pulled  ourselves  through  many  tight 
places,  and  we  really  might  cheat  the  doctors  yet 
Of  course  she  endeared  herself  to  doctors  and  nurses. 
When  early  on  Saturday  morning  the  breath  quietly 
stopped,  the  attending  sister  broke  into  sobs.  I 
asked,    "  Est-ce  qu'elle  est  morte  ? "    "  Morte,  Mon- 


DEATH  327 

sieur ! "  she  cried,  "  Mais  qu'elle  etait  une  femme 
exceptionelle ! " 

Would  she  have  had  mere  chance  for  hfe,  or  less 
suffering,  if  the  inevitable  catastrophe  had  befallen 
her  in  America?  Certainly  one  would  have  selected 
these  circumstances  for  her  death  as  little  as  he  would 
have  chosen  most  of  the  other  severities  of  that  life 
which  still  all  called  good.  Events  must  be  judged 
in  relation  to  character.  Judging  so,  I  think  those 
of  her  ending  fortunate.  She  was  attended  by  the 
highest  skill;  had  every  comfort  of  home,  food,  and 
care ;  her  admirable  servant  would  have  died  for  her 
at  any  minute;  she  held  her  consciousness  to  the  last, 
making  the  business  of  dying  as  brief  as  she  had 
always  hoped  it  might  be;  and  by  her  banishment 
was  saved  from  the  inquiries,  anxieties,  and  lamenta- 
tions of  friends.  I  cannot  imagine  a  greater  distress 
to  that  tender  heart  than  would  have  been  the  suf- 
ferings of  others  on  her  account.  Only  the  Sunday 
before  she  died  she  reproached  me  for  writing  to  a 
friend  that  she  was  not  quite  well.  But  though  no 
regrets  are  proper  for  the  manner  of  her  death,  who 
can  contemplate  the  fact  of  it  and  not  call  the  world 
irrational  if  out  of  deference  to  a  few  particles  of  dis- 
ordered matter  it  excludes  so  fair  a  spirit? 


XV 

CHARACTER 

On  returning  fronni  Europe  I  was  asked  to  allow 
a  service  to  be  held  in  Cambridge  in  memory  of 
Mrs.  Palmer.  I  gladly  did  so,  and  a  large  company 
of  her  friends  assembled  in  the  chapel  of  Harvard 
College  on  January  31,  1903.  Every  part  of  the 
service  was  in  charge  of  those  who  had  known  and 
loved  her.  Few  strangers  were  in  the  audience.  The 
ushers  were  teachers  and  students  who  had  been 
much  in  her  home.  A  chorus  of  Harvard  men  and 
another  of  Wellesley  girls  furnished  the  music,  sing- 
ing her  hymn,  "The  Tempest,"  and  others  which 
were  especially  dear  to  her.  Professor  Peabody  read 
the  Scripture  and  ofiFercd  prayer;  and  four  college 
presidents  —  Presidents  Angell,  Hazard,  Tucker, 
and  Eliot  —  made  addresses.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
programme,  as  at  the  beginning  of  this  book,  was 
placed  Mr.  Gilder's  exquisite  lament;  and  at  the 
end,  some  lines  adapted  from  Richard  Crashaw,  a 
poet  of  whom  she  had  long  been  fond. 

The  addresses  on  this  occasion  explore  Mrs. 
Palmer's  character  with  great  acuteness,  beauty,  and 
affection.    Each  of  the  four  speakers,  looking  back 


Last  Portrait 


CHARACTER  329 

on  the  life,  tells  what  he  has  seen  in  it.  Perhaps  I 
had  better  do  so  too.  Now  that  the  story  of  her  deeds 
is  done,  and  we  can  no  more  watch  the  development 
of  her  career,  it  may  be  well  to  summarize  the  quali- 
ties disclosed.  I  at  least  love  to  linger  over  her  several 
traits  no  less  than  to  observe  how  each  was  glorified 
by  its  connection  with  the  rest.  My  reader  too  will 
be  glad  to  have  them  passed  in  review,  if  that  review 
is  brief,  frank,  reverent,  and  systematic.  A  kind  of 
moral  index  may  appropriately  close  this  book.  Suc- 
cessively then  I  will  examine  her  physical,  tempera- 
mental, intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  structure. 

She  was  of  medium  height,  a  little  below  the  aver- 
age, and  in  early  life  of  slender  build.  At  the  time 
of  her  marriage  she  weighed  but  a  hundred  pounds. 
As  she  afterwards  added  some  forty  pounds  to  this, 
I  made  it  my  boast  that  there  was  about  a  third  of 
her  which  I  did  not  marry,  but  had  made.  Never 
strong,  she  was  rarely  Ul,  had  great  power  of  endur- 
ance, and  was  seldom  shaken  by  sudden  strain.  I 
have  said  that  her  lungs  were  her  weak  part,  and 
that  from  the  time  she  went  to  college  she  had  a  con- 
stant cough.  She  always  took  cold  easily.  There 
may  have  been  also  some  weakness  of  the  heart,  for 
her  pulse  was  so  faint  that  in  her  best  health  it  was 
difficult  to  find  it.  But  her  step  was  elastic,  her 
bearing  erect,  her  enjoyment  of  the  mere  act  of  living 
incessant.    She  was  sensitive  to  pain,  and  her  keen 


830  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

perceptions  of  sight,  touch,  and  taste  brought  her 
acute  pleasure.  All  her  movements  were  rapid; 
as,  however,  she  had  herself  completely  under  con- 
trol and  was  quite  without  nervousness,  one  received 
from  her  the  impression  of  calm.  When  she  sat, 
she  sat  still.  A  favorite  posture  was  that  of  listening, 
the  body  slightly  inclined  forward  and  resting  on 
the  fore  part  of  her  chair. 

Her  face  drew  instant  attention.  When  she  was 
present  it  was  as  difficult  to  look  at  anything  else  as  to 
turn  the  eye  away  from  a  flickering  fire.  One  hardly 
asked  if  the  face  was  beautiful,  so  immediate  was 
the  sense  of  its  nobility,  its  abounding  life,  and  its 
searching  personal  appeal.  Above  the  large,  dark, 
hazel  eyes  grew  luxuriant  hair  of  the  same  color, 
curling  low  down  over  the  wide  brow  and  everywhere 
trying  to  free  itself  from  restraint  for  play  about 
the  shapely  head.  The  cheek  bones  were  strongly 
marked,  as  in  Scotch  faces;  the  nose  straight  and  not 
large,  the  full  lips  slightly  parted.  The  chin  and 
lower  face  had  no  particular  form,  but  were  moulded 
by  herself  into  endless  varieties  of  expression.  Indeed 
the  whole  face  varied  so  widely  that  photographs 
taken  on  the  same  day  might  easily  be  mistaken  for 
those  of  different  women.  Shifting  lights  flashed  unde^* 
the  skin,  as  in  portraits  by  Leonardo.  By  printing 
several  of  her  pictures,  each  in  itself  unsatisfactory, 
I  hope  to  show  something  of  this  baffling  diversity. 


CHARACTER  331 

In  1890  Abbott  Thayer  painted  her  portrait  for 
Wellesley  College ;  and  in  1892  Anne  Whitney  carved 
her  bust.  The  portrait,  a  young  girl  dreaming  on 
the  future  of  Wellesley,  is  charmingly  idealized,  but 
hardly  reports  her  actual  features.  So  mobile  a  face 
too  is  peculiarly  unsuited  to  the  rigidity  of  stone  or 
bronze.  Yet  each  artist  has  represented  certain 
aspects  of  her  delightfully.  A  monument  interpret- 
ing her  work,  designed  by  Daniel  Chester  French, 
has  been  placed  in  W^ellesley  College  Chapel. 

Passing  beyond  physical  aspects  and  looking  more 
closely  at  the  woman  herself,  we  come  upon  those 
half  unconscious  dispositions  which  are  conveniently 
grouped  together  under  the  name  of  temperament. 
These  represent  our  emotional  habits  rather  than 
our  deliberate  purposes.  They  are  largely  inherited, 
or  the  natural  result  of  conduct  long  gone  by;  and 
while  highly  distinctive  of  each  of  us,  hardly  possess 
a  moral  quality.  They  are  the  raw  material  out  of 
which  character  is  formed,  and  become  good  or  bad 
according  to  their  use.  As  mere  things  of  nature, 
unsanctioned  by  will,  they  are  more  often  associated 
with  our  weakness  than  our  strength.  Yet  however 
imperfect  they  may  severally  be,  and  even  open  one 
by  one  to  disparagement,  together  they  form  the 
groundwork  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  life.  No 
man  is  strong  or  much  prized  who  is  not  richly 
temperamental. 


832  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

Mrs.  Palmer's  temperament  was  an  ardent  one. 
She  entered  intensely  into  all  she  did.  While  aston- 
ishingly responsive,  and  answering  with  almost  equal 
readiness  the  call  of  a  bird  or  a  human  soul,  she  was 
for  the  moment  absorbed  in  each.  Persons  easily 
played  upon  by  things  around  are  likely  after  a  time 
to  find  all  trivial.  But  for  her  everything  held  its 
importance,  and  even  in  repetition  was  fresh.  She 
had  strong  likes  and  dislikes,  though  there  were 
many  more  of  the  former,  because  under  that  pene- 
trating eye  each  thing  or  person  was  pretty  sure  to 
disclose  points  on  which  kindly  interest  might  fasten. 
But  when  she  came  upon  a  case  of  perversity,  or 
what  at  the  moment  she  mistook  for  this,  her  indig- 
nation was  fierce.  Shortly  after  her  death  one  who 
knew  her  well  remarked  to  me,  on  reading  a  eulogy 
of  her,  that  the  writer  had  missed  his  mark  through 
not  mentioning  her  power  of  scorn.  And  I  perceived 
that  he  was  right;  scorn  was  an  essential  factor  in 
her.  Few  illustrated  better  than  this  tender  and 
sympathetic  woman  what  our  Scriptures  mean  by 
"the  wrath  of  the  lamb."  There  were  persons  for 
whom  she  felt  a  positive  aversion. 

Generally,  however,  like  most  of  those  engaged  in 
constructive  work,  she  was  optimistic,  sanguine  of 
good  in  all,  whether  persons  or  events.  Most  things 
have  a  bright  and  dark  side.  Her  instinct  was  for 
brightness.    Being  resourceful,  too,  and  delighting 


CHARACTER  333 

to  push  a  path  through  unknown  regions,  she  readily 
discovered  in  any  human  situation,  however  unpro- 
pitious,  some  means  of  access  to  the  good  she  sought. 
The  world  was  her  playground.  Obstacles,  loss, 
stubborn  material,  slender  means,  suffering,  failure 
even,  only  quickened  her  adroitness  and  brought 
greater  enjoyment  to  the  game  of  life.  A  hardened 
optimist  I  have  elsewhere  called  her;  and  probably 
her  spirit  of  persistent  buoyancy  is  about  the  richest 
gift  which  nature  ever  bestows  on  a  traveller  through 
our  perplexing  world.  She  knew  it  to  be  a  means  of 
power,  prized  it,  cultivated  it,  and  seldom  allowed 
work  and  play  to  become  dissociated.  Humor  was 
used  unceasingly  to  oil  the  machinery  of  life.  No 
occasion  was  too  grave  for  a  good  story.  I  have  heard 
of  a  little  girl  who  on  being  reproved  for  laughter 
during  prayers  queried,  "Why,  can't  God  take  a 
joke  ?  "  Mrs.  Palmer  thought  He  could ;  and  while 
deeply  reverent,  obliged  serious  and  topsy-turvy 
things  to  live  in  pretty  close  intimacy. 

Yet  when  moods  of  depression  came,  as  come  to 
all  they  will,  she  was  perfectly  frank  in  expressing 
them.  They  are  openly  announced  in  several  of  the 
letters  which  I  have  printed.  Indeed  I  sometimes 
thought  that  such  moods,  like  all  else  in  her  world, 
furnished  a  kind  of  fresh  matter  for  amusement, 
they  were  let  loose  with  such  unnecessary  warmth. 
Usually  they  sprang  from  fatigue.  Of  this  ignomini* 


334  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

ous  root  she  seemed  herself  half  conscious,  aware 
therefore  that  the  abuse  plentifully  distributed  to  all 
the  world  and  its  inhabitants  belonged  not  so  much 
to  it  as  to  her  own  infirmity.  But  this  reflection,  if  it 
came,  in  no  wise  abated  either  her  vehemence  or  her 
sensible  conduct.  There  were  few  of  those  she  cared 
for  against  whom  she  did  not  occasionally  fulminate ; 
and  artificial  though  these  denunciations  were,  and 
little  as  they  affected  her  devotion  to  their  objects, 
they  held  close  to  fact,  were  incisive,  and  as  enter- 
tainingly exuberant  as  her  more  frequent  outbursts 
of  praise.  They  were  in  reality  mere  explosions, 
temperamental  modes  of  blowing  off  steam,  practised 
often  when  alone;  for  she  had  the  habit  of  talking 
much  to  herself.  But  she  knew  the  difference  between 
a  mood  and  a  judgment,  kept  each  in  its  place,  and 
put  the  former  swiftly  by  as  soon  as  occasion  required. 
If  she  happened  to  grow  weary  of  a  friend,  she  would 
drop  him  for  a  time  —  often,  I  suspect,  to  his  con- 
siderable perplexity ;  but  at  any  moment  of  his  need 
he  would  find  that  all  her  love  was  warm  and  waiting. 
"Life's  a  chore,"  she  would  say  as  she  trudged  off 
promptly  to  a  disagreeable  committee  meeting.  "I 
want  to  do  something,"  was  a  frequent  cry  when  one 
of  these  black  moods  was  upon  her.  "  Shall  we  play 
1  game,  or  have  some  reading,  or  will  you  lie  down 
and  rest?"  "No,  no!  I  want  to  do  something." 
And  then  I  must  contrive  an  escapade,  the  crazier 


CHARACTER  335 

the  better,  to  clear  away  the  fretting  deposit  of  the 
day;  after  which  she  would  hurry  back  joj'fully  to 
work  and  people,  and  with  all  the  more  eagerness  for 
having  temporarily  put  them  by. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  speak  further  of  her  extreme 
diligence,  which  has  been  illustrated  on  every  page 
of  this  book.  I  will  merely  reiterate  two  qualifica- 
tions of  it ;  that  while  skilful  in  using  fragments  of 
time,  she  seldom  appeared  in  haste,  nor  ever  lost  the 
ability  to  be  idle.  Yet  most  industrious  persons  are 
orderly  also,  and  this  she  was  not.  She  often  la- 
mented it  pathetically ;  on  her  last  departure  for  Eu- 
rope, for  example,  bidding  her  sister  go  to  a  certain 
closet,  in  case  she  did  not  return,  and  destroy  all  its 
contents,  because  she  would  lose  my  respect  if  I  came 
upon  such  a  rubbish  heap.  For  sorting  things  as  she 
used  them,  and  condemning  some,  her  incapacity 
was  extreme.  But  I  think  the  disorderliness  was 
chiefly  confined  to  two  matters :  letters,  which  have 
always  a  fragrant  personality  about  them,  and  which 
before  her  marriage  had  been  generally  cared  for 
by  her  secretary;  and  then  other  articles  to  which 
her  tenacious  affections  clung,  articles  many  and  mis- 
cellaneous. She  liked  to  keep  things,  regardless  of 
their  use.  A  flower  given  by  a  friend,  a  pebble  picked 
up  on  a  significant  occasion,  an  old  school-book,  a 
concert  programme,  a  fragment  of  dress  worn  at 
some  festival,  while  acknowledged  to  be  much  in  the 


836  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER 

way,  were  exempt  from  destruction,  and  gradually 
filled  many  a  drawer  and  chest.  But  her  business 
habits  were  models  of  exactitude,  and  about  her 
rooms  and  person  there  could  never  be  anything 
in  the  least  untidy.  Of  course  her  writing-table  was 
always  a  complete  chaos;  and  a  certain  mode  of 
increasing  that  chaos  may  be  mentioned,  a  pretty 
way  she  had  of  dealing  with  letters  which  could  not 
immediately  be  answered.  She  would  address  an 
envelope  to  the  writer,  stamp  it,  and  tossing  it  on  the 
general  pile,  would  appear  to  win  an  easy  conscience 
for  a  fairly  extended  delay. 

Perhaps  in  closing  this  sketch  of  her  temperament 
I  should  mention  again  its  strangely  quickening 
quality,  its  tendency  to  call  forth  as  by  a  kind  of  magic 
the  best  powers  of  whomever  she  came  near.  By 
identifying  herself  with  those  about  her  she  stirred 
their  imitative  will.  But  as  this  occult  process  has 
been  pretty  fully  described  elsewhere,  I  will  here 
merely  cite  two  contrasted  instances  of  it.  The  first 
is  that  of  a  scholar  and  author,  eminent  in  this 
country  and  abroad.  He  writes :  "  When  I  last  saw 
Mrs.  Palmer  I  was  in  a  hopeless  state,  caring  little 
what  I  did,  especially  as  regards  writing.  I  never 
mentioned  this  to  her,  but  with  that  marvelous  in- 
stinct of  hers  I  think  she  perceived  it.  At  any  rate 
she  began  at  once  to  kindle  me,  and  before  I  knew 
what  was  happening  I  was  afire  to  do  a  man's  work 


CHARACTER  337 

again.  It  is  a  deep  regret  that  the  book  she  prompted, 
the  most  elaborate  and  influential  I  have  written, 
her  death  prevented  me  from  laying  in  her  hands 
and  saying,  'This  have  I  done  because  you  helped 
me  to  do  it  by  casual  words  of  encouragement.' " 

The  second  letter  is  from  a  farmer's  wife :  "  She 
gave  so  much  of  herself  to  every  living  thing!  To 
meet  her  at  the  Boxford  Station  in  the  morning 
made  the  whole  day  bright.  If  she  passed  me  in  the 
late  afternoon  on  the  long  hill,  she  seemed  the  fairest 
object  in  all  that  stretch  of  sweet  country.  I  remem- 
ber, too,  how  beautiful  she  was  at  the  communion 
table,  with  the  uncovered  head,  in  her  summer 
dresses.  Even  her  pictures  speak.  I  cut  one  from 
the  Boston  paper  that  brought  the  news  of  her  death. 
It  is  pinned  on  the  wall  over  my  table.  I  often  look 
at  it  and  promise,  'I  will  be  a  better  woman,  Mrs. 
Palmer,  because  you  have  lived.'  And  then  out  of 
the  great  speaking  eyes  comes  a  merry  glance  that 
shows  me  she  understands." 

Hitherto  we  have  considered  merely  the  instinc- 
tive sides  of  her,  —  her  temperament,  habits,  the 
natural  machinery  which  kept  her  in  motion  while 
her  intelligence  was  engaged  with  other  things.  But 
that  intelligence  itself  claims  attention.  It  had  the 
same  swiftness  which  characterized  her  throughout, 
conducting  her  usually  at  once  to  the  heart  of  a  sub- 
ject and  allowing  her  to  waste  little  time  on  side 


338  ALICE   FREEMAN   PALMER 

issues.  Her  immediate  judgments  were  sagacious 
judgments.  In  discussion  she  caught  the  point 
quickly,  would  summarize  lucidly  an  argument  she 
had  heard  or  a  book  she  had  read,  and  in  dealing 
with  all  sorts  of  people  perceived  by  a  kind  of  instinct 
their  state  of  mind  and  quickly  adapted  to  it  what- 
ever she  had  to  say.  I  have  no  need  to  enlarge  on 
the  versatility  of  her  mind;  but  will  call  attention 
once  more  to  the  intellectual  patience  with  which  she 
pursued  distant  and  large  ends,  and  also  to  her  con- 
stant preference  of  original  and  creative  work  to  that 
of  mere  routine. 

Circumstances  in  the  middle  of  her  life  may  pos- 
sibly have  somewhat  changed  her  mental  bias.  When 
she  went  to  college  she  was  bent  on  becoming  a 
scholar,  and  for  a  time  was  drawn  most  strongly 
toward  mathematics  and  Greek,  two  subjects  as 
remote  as  any  from  practical  affairs.  Gradually  his- 
tory claimed  her,  and  in  it  she  began  studies  for  the 
doctorate.  At  this  time,  I  judge,  her  aim  was  speciali- 
zation, scientific  scholarship.  But  in  this  country 
any  one  who  has  both  scholarly  and  administrative 
talents  is  pretty  sure  to  be  called  on  to  swamp  the 
former  in  the  latter,  particularly  if  he  has  his  own 
bread  to  earn.  From  the  time  she  took  charge  of  a 
school  the  practical  side  of  her  nature  was  upper- 
most. Perhaps  it  always  had  been.  Though  after- 
wards for  two  years  she  taught  history  skilfully  at 


CHARACTER  339 

Wellesley,  she  was  even  then  more  occupied  with 
guiding  girls  and  organizing  a  college  than  with  pure 
scholarship.  Somebody  said  of  her  at  this  time  that 
she  was  born  to  rule  a  nation  by  a  turn  of  her 
little  finger.  So  it  continued  through  subsequent 
life:  the  practical  reason,  and  not  the  theoretic, 
remained  her  field.  It  was  always  the  concrete  thing, 
the  particular  individual,  the  single  institution  with 
its  special  problems,  which  engaged  her.  In  what 
masterly  fashion  she  dealt  with  them  I  will  not  repeat. 
My  readers  are  already  sufficiently  familiar  with  her 
sure  observation,  grasp,  constructive  power,  ingenu- 
ity, fair-mindedness,  and  estimate  of  values  —  all 
qualities  implying  intellect  of  a  high  order.  To  me 
the  distinguishing  marks  of  her  mind,  in  all  its  forms 
of  outgo,  are  its  speed,  ease,  and  sanity. 

Probably  all  her  intellectual  powers  got  effective- 
ness and  were  prevented  from  damaging  their  owner 
by  that  specialized  control  of  attention  which  is  fre- 
quently seen  in  successful  administrators.  As  each 
separate  person,  topic,  or  situation  came  forward 
for  judgment,  she  gave  it  her  whole  mind ;  and  then, 
after  sentence  pronounced,  from  her  whole  mind  also 
it  disappeared.  Such  minds  work  in  closed  com- 
partments and  admit  few  straggling  thoughts.  At 
times  of  business  she  did  not  look  much  before  or 
after,  but  straight  into.  This  concentration  I  regard 
as  one  of  the  surest  indications  of  intellectual  force- 


340  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

In  testing  practical  power  we  may  well  ask  how  long 
can  a  person  hold  the  attention  firmly  and  freshly  on 
x  single  subject,  and  then  how  fully  can  he  give  it  its 
discharge?  In  my  narrative  this  ability  to  switch 
on  and  switch  off  has  been  amply  illustrated. 

Her  moral  nature  was  grounded  in  sympathy. 
Beginning  early,  the  identification  of  herself  with 
others  grew  into  a  constant  habit,  of  unusual  range 
and  delicacy.  I  have  shown  how  in  her  childhood 
each  member  of  the  family  was  called  on  to  con- 
tribute whatever  he  had  to  the  common  stock,  how 
each  felt  himself  responsible  for  all,  and  separate 
interests  were  unknown.  This  enforced  public  sense, 
behind  which  she  did  not  at  that  time  go,  became  in 
later  years  a  conscious  principle  guiding  her  life, 
and  one  which  she  longed  to  see  guiding  the  lives  of 
all.  To  get  anything  at  the  cost  of  another  was 
impossible  for  her;  to  keep  anything  which  another 
might  need,  painful.  She  suffered  with  those  whom 
she  saw  suffer.  Righteousness  is,  after  all,  merely 
the  daily  love  of  man  —  of  man  in  his  divinity, 
weakness,  aspirations,  errors,  interests,  and  idiosyn- 
cracies.  This  Jesus  announced,  St.  Francis  preached, 
and  all  great  moralists  have  urged.  To  it  Mrs. 
Palmer  had  habituated  herself  until  it  imparted  ele- 
vation and  sweetness  to  her  commonest  acts.  Its 
working  will  most  easily  be  seen  in  a  few  trivial  in- 
stances. 


CHARACTER  341 

A  poor  woman  of  Boxford  tells  me  that  she  was 
leaning  over  her  gate  one  evening,  watching  for  her 
husband's  return,  when  Mrs.  Palmer  passed  by. 
As  usual,  she  stopped  to  talk.  Incidentally  she 
learned  that  the  good  wife's  soup  for  supper  was 
waiting  to  be  made  till  the  farmer  should  bring  a 
couple  of  turnips  from  the  village.  Mrs.  Palmer 
walked  on,  but  soon  appeared  again,  turnips  in  hand. 
The  soup  could  be  started. 

One  summer  a  young  bride  came  to  Boxford.  In 
calling  on  her,  Mrs.  Palmer  wanted  to  hear  every 
detail  of  the  wedding  and  to  see  the  beautiful  clothes. 
Into  the  enjoyment  of  these  fineries  she  entered 
with  unbounded  zest,  but  said  at  the  close,  "  Don't 
wear  them  too  often  here.  Plain  dressing  is  best  for 
the  country;  and  clothes  that  put  a  distance  between 
you  and  other  people  are  not  nice."  With  such  fra- 
grant trifles  her  daily  ways  were  strewn. 

Being  so  sympathetic,  she  naturally  enjoyed  every- 
body and  condescended  to  none.  Whether  she  min- 
gled with  scholars  and  business  men,  with  children 
and  society  women,  with  lawyers,  school-girls,  coun- 
try folk,  or  criminals,  she  took  them  just  as  they 
stood,  found  them  all  vividly  interesting,  and  they 
found  her  not  less  so.  When  in  close  contact  with 
wrongdoers,  I  think  she  seldom  censured  them,  even 
in  her  own  mind,  but  felt  the  naturalness  of  their 
case,  the  pity  of  it,  the  wealth  of  life  they  were  losing, 


342  ALICE   FREEMAN   PALMER 

and  the  longing  —  soon  felt  by  them  too  —  for 
bridges  of  return.  In  one  of  his  parables  Jesus 
warns  his  disciples  against  plucking  up  tares  in  fields 
of  grain-  The  roots  of  the  two  are  so  intertwined,  he 
thinks,  that  a  hasty  pull  at  the  poorer  may  easily 
damage  the  better.  Apparently  some  such  view 
made  her  tolerant  of  evil.  To  its  eradication  she  gave 
iittle  heed,  preferring  rather  to  fertilize  the  good 
until  it  should  be  strong  enough  to  crowd  out  inferior 
growths. 

Most  persons  will  agree  that  sympathy  is  the 
predominantly  feminine  virtue,  and  that  she  who 
lacks  it  cannot  make  its  absence  good  by  any  col- 
lection of  other  worthy  qualities.  In  a  true  woman 
sympathy  directs  all  else.  To  find  a  virtue  equally 
central  in  a  man  we  must  turn  to  truthfulness  or 
courage.  These  also  a  woman  should  possess,  as  a 
man  too  should  be  sympathetic ;  but  in  her  they  take 
a  subordinate  place,  subservient  to  omnipresent 
sympathy.  Within  these  limits  the  ampler  they  are, 
the  nobler  the  woman. 

I  believe  Mrs.  Palmer  had  a  full  share  of  both  these 
manly  excellences,  and  practised  them  in  thoroughly 
feminine  fashion.  She  was  essentially  true,  hating 
humbug  in  all  its  disguises.  Being  a  keen  observer, 
she  knew  a  fact  when  she  saw  it  and  did  not  juggle 
with  herself  by  calling  things  what  they  are  not. 
Her  love  of  plainness  and  distaste  for  affectation 


CHARACTER  343 

were  forms  of  veracity.  But  in  a  narrative  of  hers 
one  got  much  besides  plain  reaUties.  These  had  their 
significance  heightened  by  her  eager  emotion,  and 
their  picturesqueness  by  her  happy  artistry.  In 
merry  moods  her  fantastic  exaggerations  were 
dehghtful.  Of  course  the  warmth  of  her  sympathy 
cut  off  all  inclination  to  falsehood  for  its  usual  selfish 
purpose.  But  against  generous  untruth  she  was  not 
so  well  guarded.  Kindness  was  the  first  thing.  In 
dealing  with  a  trembling  soul,  if  the  bluntness  of 
reality  would  hurt,  its  edges  were  smoothed.  Tact 
too,  once  become  a  habit,  made  adaptation  to  the 
mind  addressed  a  constant  concern.  She  had  ex- 
traordinary skill  in  stuffing  kindness  with  truth;  and 
into  a  resisting  mind  could  without  irritation  convey 
a  larger  bulk  of  unwelcome  fact  than  any  one  I  have 
known.  But  that  insistence  on  colorless  statement 
which  in  our  time  the  needs  of  trade  and  science 
have  made  current  among  men,  she  did  not  feel. 
Lapses  from  exactitude  which  do  not  separate  person 
from  person  she  easily  condoned. 

Her  courage  was  remarkable.  President  Eliot  has 
selected  this  trait  for  special  eulogy :  "  One  of  the 
most  fascinating  attributes  of  Mrs.  Palmer  was  her 
courage.  She  was  one  of  the  bravest  persons  I  ever 
saw,  man  or  woman.  Courage  is  a  pleasing  attribute 
in  a  tough,  powerful,  healthy  man;  it  is  perfectly 
delightful  in  a  delicate,  tender  woman."    But  this 


S44  ALICE  FREEMAN   PALMER 

courage,  extreme  though  it  was,  was  also  chiefly  an 
expression  of  social  loyalty,  victorious  over  personal 
feeling.  There  was  in  it  little  of  that  blind  push 
which  knows  no  danger;  she  had  her  feminine  fears. 
A  cow,  a  mouse,  a  snake  were  objects  of  terror. 
I  seldom  went  to  walk  in  Paris  that  she  did  not  warn 
me  of  the  perils  of  street-crossings.  She  was  sensitive 
to  the  judgments  of  others,  and  shrank  from  having 
anything  in  her  dress,  speech,  or  behavior  remarked 
as  "queer."  To  be  conspicuous  was  disagreeable. 
But  such  timidities  were  altogether  set  aside  the 
moment  aid  could  be  given.  In  the  public  interest 
or  in  helping  those  she  loved  she  never  faltered.  No 
difficulty,  risk,  or  misconception  stopped  her  serene 
advance.  Her  mind  appeared  to  gain  additional 
clearness  and  resolve  in  times  of  danger,  and  the 
dependence  of  persons  on  her  to  be  a  chief  source  of 
strength.  Kant  declares  that  in  the  voice  of  duty 
we  hear  the  assurance,  "You  can,  because  you 
ought."  Mrs.  Palmer  believed  this  fully.  Wherever 
there  was  human  need  she  turned  without  measuring 
powers  or  preferences.  The  time  of  her  sister's  death, 
her  presidency  at  Wellesley,  the  busy  years  of  Cam- 
bridge were  crowded  with  cases  of  such  easy  hardi- 
hood. Two  little  instances  from  private  life  will 
show  how  exquisitely  love  could  embolden  her. 

In  1896  I  was  ordered  to  undergo  a  serious  surgical 
operation.   On  leaving  home  for  the  Boston  hospital 


CHARACTER  345 

r  charged  Mrs.  Palmer  not  to  visit  me  till  the  fol- 
lowing noon,  when  the  operation  would  be  over. 
But  she  timed  her  coming  so  as  to  arrive  while  I  was 
still  in  the  surgeon's  hands.  She  wanted  an  oppor- 
tunity quietly  to  inspect  my  room.  About  it  she 
arranged  pleasant  articles  from  our  home,  and  then 
discovered  that  my  pillow  was  not  what  she  ap- 
proved. Hurrying  back  to  Cambridge,  she  seized 
the  long  pillow  from  my  bed,  crossed  Boston  with 
it  in  her  arms  —  the  four  miles  requiring  a  change 
of  electric  cars  and  a  considerable  walk  —  reached 
my  room  before  I  was  brought  in,  and  when  I  awoke 
she  was  sitting  by  my  head,  which  rested  on  the  sacred 
pillow.  Subsequently  I  asked  if  she  had  not  found 
it  disagreeable  to  expose  herself  on  streets  and  in 
public  conveyances  with  so  unusual  a  burden;  but 
she  seemed  hardly  to  comprehend  my  question.  She 
had  been  thinking  of  my  comfort  and  had  not  no- 
ticed smiling  observers. 

A  few  years  later  she  herself  was  in  a  low  state, 
and  I  could  get  no  exact  account  of  what  the  matter 
was.  One  Sunday,  as  I  knelt  beside  her  in  the  Box- 
ford  church,  I  saw  a  tear  drop  to  the  floor.  Gaily, 
however,  she  went  off  to  Boston  on  Monday,  saying 
her  doctor  had  promised  full  details  of  the  case  that 
day.  Toward  evening  I  received  a  note  announcing 
that  she  was  to  be  operated  upon  on  the  following 
morning.  Knowing  that  I  was  pledged  to  a  difficult 


346  ALICE   FREEMAN  PALMER 

piece  of  writing,  she  had  kept  her  trouble  to  herself 
so  long  as  concealment  was  possible. 

Between  a  life  which  so  embodies  those  of  its  fel- 
lows and  a  life  of  religion  there  is  little  difference; 
but  there  is  a  little,  and  hers  was  a  specifically 
religious  nature.  In  every  call  of  human  need  she 
heard  the  voice  of  God,  summoning  her  to  free  his 
children  from  selfishness  and  woe.  The  love  of  God, 
it  has  been  well  said,  is  devotion  to  duty  intensified 
m  intellectual  clearness  and  in  emotional  strength 
by  the  conviction  that  its  aim  is  also  that  of  a  great 
personality.  This  courage-bringing  conviction  she 
had.  All  her  morality  was  therefore  touched  with  a 
divine  emotion.  Her  aims  were  unified.  In  solitude 
and  suffering  she  was  not  alone.  She  knew  that  the 
stars  in  their  courses  shone  on  her  designs,  and  ac- 
cessible love  throbbed  through  all  things. 

In  my  third  chapter  I  have  explained  how  this 
clear  consciousness  of  personal  friendship  with  the 
Ruler  of  all  began  in  the  perplexing  exaltations  of 
the  Windsor  period.  The  larger  love  was  revealed 
through  the  limitations  of  the  smaller.  But  the  con- 
secration  then  made  was  no  temporary  affair.  It 
bore  the  strains  of  more  than  thirty  years,  being 
renewed  in  the  Sunday  schools  of  Ann  Arbor,  at 
her  sister's  bedside,  by  spiritual  ministrations  at 
Wellesley,  and  in  the  busy  peace  of  the  Cambridge 
home.    But  hers  was  a  free  soul.    Into  her  religion 


CHARACTER  347 

no  dread  entered.  She  rejoiced  in  the  Lord  and  in 
the  power  of  his  might.  And  just  as  her  intercourse 
with  her  fellow  men  was  directed  by  sympathy  for 
their  needs  and  interests,  so  did  a  kind  of  sympathy 
with  God  shape  her  devotion.  He  was  her  steady 
companion,  so  naturally  a  part  of  her  hourly  thought 
that  she  attached  little  consequence  to  specific  occa- 
sions of  intercourse.  While  she  entered  heartily  into 
church  services,  even  when  of  a  pretty  rude  order,  her 
Sundays  hardly  differed  from  other  days.  She  had  no 
fixed  times  of  prayer  or  devout  reading,  and  in  gen- 
eral attached  little  importance  to  pious  proprieties. 
Prizing  too  spiritual  diversity  and  bold  with  divine 
affections,  she  welcomed  every  species  of  earnest 
seeking  after  God.  With  all  sorts  of  believers  and 
unbelievers  she  associated  with  equal  freedom,  and 
felt  God  stirring  in  them  all.  Only  two  religious 
animosities  did  I  ever  detect  in  her.  She  was  uncom- 
fortable with  those  who  make  of  religion  a  thing 
apart,  an  affair  of  performance  and  ritual;  and  again 
with  the  negationists  and  minimizers,  those  who 
seek  to  reduce  religion  to  its  lowest  terms,  question- 
ing its  poetry  and  timid  over  a  creed.  Her  own  creed 
was  clear  and  strong,  being  that  of  the  orthodox 
faith.  In  ideal  manhood  she  saw  the  complete  revela- 
tion of  God.  Reverently  therefore  she  turned  to  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  and  sought  to  make  her  life,  like  his, 
both  human  and  divine. 


348  ALICE   FREEIVIAN   PALMER 

Such  was  the  woman  of  whom  these  pages  treat  — 
such,  but  oh  how  different !  I  am  painfully  conscious 
of  my  inability  to  revitalize  so  abounding  a  being. 
The  life-blood  is  gone.  A  person  once  dead  can 
hardly  be  made  to  walk  again,  certainly  not  by 
analytic  me.  In  order  to  be  less  inadequate  I  have 
added  to  the  earlier  chapters,  where  she  was  moving 
through  affairs,  this  summary  of  her  more  important 
traits.  Yet  such  a  precise  and  abstract  statement 
belittles  anew.  The  qualities  we  admired  in  her, 
taken  singly,  were  fortunately  not  rare.  Others  pos- 
sess them,  possess  them  often  in  higher  degree. 
Only  their  combination  was  remarkable.  In  her 
single  person  she  harmonized  what  is  commonly 
conflicting ;  so  that  while  she  conveyed  rather  unusu- 
ally the  impression  of  being  made  all  in  one  piece, 
he  who  set  out  to  describe  her  found  himself  obliged 
to  contradict  in  each  new  sentence  whatever  he  had 
asserted  of  her  in  his  old.  Such  was  her  wealthy 
unity,  the  despair  of  him  who  would  portray.  Per- 
haps this  is  merely  to  say  that  she  was  very  much  of 
a  woman.  At  any  rate,  so  it  was:  so  simple,  yet  so 
elusive  was  her  blended  nature. 

And  because  of  its  combined  variety  and  firmness 
that  nature  contained  some  provision  for  all ;  nor  was 
it  ever  closed  to  any.  She  seemed  built  for  bounty, 
and  held  nothing  back.  Gaily  she  went  forth  through- 
out her  too  few  years,  scattering  happiness  up  and 


1 


CHARACTER  349 

down  neglected  ways.  A  fainting  multitude  flocked 
around  to  share  her  wisdom,  peace,  hardihood,  de- 
voutness,  and  merriment;  and  more  easily  after- 
wards accommodated  themselves  to  their  lot.  Strength 
continually  went  forth  from  her.  She  put  on  right- 
eousness and  it  clothed  her,  and  sound  judgment  was 
her  daily  crown.  Each  eye  that  saw  her  blessed  her ; 
each  ear  that  heard  her  was  made  glad. 


Hark  hither,  reader,  will't  thou  see 

Nature  her  own  physician  be. 

Will't  see  a  soul  all  her  own  wealth. 

Her  own  music,  her  own  health; 

A  soul  whose  sober  thought  can  tell 

How  to  wear  her  garments  well. 

Her  garments  that  upon  her  sit 

(As  garments  should  do)  close  and  fit; 

A  well-cloth'd  soul,  that's  not  opprest 

Nor  chokt  with  what  she  should  be  drest, 

But  sheathed  in  a  crystal  shrine. 

Through  which  all  her  bright  features  shine; 

A  soul  whose  intellectual  beams 

No  mists  do  mask,  no  lazy  steams; 

A  happy  soul,  that  all  the  way 

To  heaven  hath  a  summer's  day; 

WTiose  latest  and  most  leaden  hours 

Fall  with  soft  wings,  please  with  gay  flowers; 

And  when  life's  sweet  fable  ends 

This  soul  and  body  part  like  friends; 

No  quarrels,  murmurs,  no  delay; 

A  kiss,  a  sigh,  and  so  away. 

Adapted  from  Richaed  Ck.isha\7. 


DATES 

1855,  February  21.    Born  at  Colesville,  New  York. 
1862-64.    Father  at  Albany  Medical  School. 

1864.  Family  moves  to  Windsor. 

1865.  Windsor  Academy. 
1872.    Michigan  University. 

1875.  Ottawa  High  School. 

1876.  B.  A.  Michigan.    Geneva  Lake  Seminary. 
1877-79.    Saginaw  High  School. 

1878.  Family  moves  to  Saginaw.    Called  to  Wellesley. 

1879.  Stella  Freeman  dies.   Professor  of  History  at  Welles- 

ley. 

1880.  Severe  illness. 

1881.  Mr.  Durant  dies.    Acting  President  of  Wellesley 

College. 

1882.  President  of  Wellesley  and  Ph.D.  Michigan.    Col- 

legiate Alumnae  Association. 

1884.  In  England. 

1885.  Norumbega  Cottage. 

1887.  Litt.  D.  Columbia.     Marries  and  moves  to  Cam- 

bridge. 

1888.  Trustee  of  Wellesley  College. 
1888-89.    In  Europe. 

1889.  Woman's  Home  Missionary  Society.  Massachusetts 

State  Board  of  Education. 


3o4 


DATES 


1891.    Woman's  Education  Association. 

1891.  Board   of   Managers   of   World's   Fair.      Portrait 

painted. 

1892.  Bust  carved.    University  of  Chicago. 

1894.    Quincy  Street,  Cambridge.    Endowment  for  Rad- 

diffe  College. 
1895-96.    In  Europe. 
1898.    Bicycle  Accident. 
1900.    International  Institute  for  Girls  in  Spain.  Bradford 

Academy. 
1902.    Death. 


t 


i 


A  MARRIAGE  CYCLE 

By  Alice  Freeman  Palmer 

"  An  intimate  revelation  of  a  strong  and  achieving 
character."  —  Kansas  City  Star. 

"In  'A  Marriage  Cycle  '  one  has  the  sense  of  con- 
tact with  a  rare  and  lovable  spirit.  In  these  poems 
a  beautiful  soul  reveals  itself,  tender,  prescient,  all 
womanly."  — •  Milwaukee  Free  Press. 

"  George  Herbert  Palmer  has  enriched  the  sea- 
son's output  of  books  with  this  collection  of  poems 
written  by  his  wife,  the  late  Alice  Freeman  Palmer,  a 
woman  of  rare  character  and  charm.  .  .  .  The  friends 
alike  of  Professor  Palmer  and  of  the  late  Mrs.  Palmer 
will  approve  of  his  decision  to  publish  the  poems,  and 
there  is  much  in  them  that  the  larger  public  will  de- 
light to  read."  —  Springfield  Republican. 

"  These  are  poems  as  whole-heartedly  devoted  to 
a  lofty  and  ideal  love  as  the  Sonnets  from  the  Portu- 
guese." —  Christian  Advocate^  New  York. 

"  It  is  a  sacred  volume,  to  be  handled  tenderly.  It 
is  the  record  of  one  marriage  in  which  the  secret  of 
life  was  found.  One  cannot  criticize  it,  one  cannot 
praise  it,  one  can  only  add  this  little  volume  to  that 
shelf  that  contains  those  few  revelations  of  the  best 
and  happiest  moments  of  great  and  noble  souls."  — 
Congregationalist. 

Photogravure  frontispiece. 

Wedding  edition, 

HOUGHTON  ^^^  BOSTON 

MIFFLIN  /^fW  ^^^ 

COMPANY  CSllra  NEW  YORK 


i 


/ 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 
hwm\  coos  „^,^ 

THE  LIFE  OF  ALICE  FREEMAN  PALMER  BOST 


3  0112  025408334 


